Sadly Neglected Unfinished Stories
by Glimare
Summary: I seem to have mostly left the fandom in favor of writing other things. Not completely gone but... Read Forward for details. Either way, these are first chapters, summaries, and ideas I will likely never finish but still want to share. Batfam central characters, so they're here. ADOPTIONS ARE AVAILABLE. PM me if you want them. Enjoy! T for variety of subjects
1. Forward

**_Forward_**

Sorry to say this but it looks like I've phased out of writing Batman/Batfam stories. I am still going to complete what I have up and there are long ones that are going to be posted, but there are a lot of ideas I have on my page that I haven't gotten anywhere with so I'm just gonna let them go. (I make a pretty good Elsa by the way X3)

So, beside the hiatus I'm taking from Fanfiction until I get school done and more money in my pocket, I'm going to post all the 1st chapters I never got around to continuing in this genre. Some are meant for Young Justice, some were meant for Teen Titans, and one or two were meant for Justice League, but the central characters were always Batfam so they're all being posted here. You will get what I have written (because it's a shame to toss) and you will also get the summary of what I had planned.

 **If anyone wants to adopt the stories, PM me and we can talk.** Sadly I'm really bad about getting back with people about editing (I apologize to those I said I would and ended up not. I'm an idiot) so other than a few suggestions and being a person to bounce ideas off of (not too many or I'll ignore you), I'll leave them mostly in your hands.

After I'm done posting what I've written in full, other old plot bunnies will be posted at the end that will be up for grabs. Some even come with original artwork for covers!

And before you panic about my other stuff, I'm still working on _Daddy, Not Bats_ (it's a series of out of order short stories for a reason), the origin stories for DNB (just started Mar'i's), _Fixing Damian_ (slowly), and promised ones I've already started and got a good chunk done (ie, _Retribution_ and _Broken Son_ ). These will be done! I swear it! I just want to look at other fandoms as well ( _Skip Beat!, Sailor Moon, Tales of Symphonia,_ and _White Collar/Pretender_ ).

Again, sorry but I must (mostly) leave you. I've got a lot of reading to do and RL isn't a picnic either. Some of you (a lot since I haven't posted much in the past year or so) probably don't care, so this is more for my followers. Again, if you're interested in continuing any of these ideas, please do, with my permission and blessing. Seriously talk to me first though so I know it's in good hands. I like my children to be given to good parents.

Keep writing everyone! And remember to have fun. ^^V


	2. Earth 2 Batclan

Where the idea came from: read earth 2 vol 1 recently. Heard rumors that Jason would be their new Batman, but what happened to Dick, Tim, and the girls there? Court of Owls is crucial to the beginning. Should be interesting. This was **before** any other volumes were out and **before** anyone else was IDed in that world.

* * *

 **Earth 2 Batclan**

Prologue: Five years ago

"Get him out of here!"

The Owl's orders were absolute, no matter what he felt inside most days. This time he didn't debate. The building was collapsing and parademons were attacking everyone. Taking a child and running was one order he'd take in a heartbeat.

Picking up the small boy, the young Talon ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The child screamed after his father, much like he had once long ago; but despite the protests, he didn't stop. They kept running, moving, dodging, getting as far from the monsters as they could. They had to get to safety.

Twenty minutes later they were away from the warzone, but not safe. Not yet. The Talon tried to find something, some sign, that could be a safe haven. But if the Court of Owls was infiltrated, destroyed, what was the likelihood of their passages and protection being good anymore? Glaring in thought, the young assassin in training tried to figure this out. He still had a mind that could think for itself thankfully. If his training wasn't interrupted by the war going on outside, requiring every Talon to go out and fight, he might not have the individual will he somehow maintained all these years. And if it weren't for the shaking, crying child in his arms, he might be with the rest of them, dead fighting this never ending war.

"Daddy... Mommy..."

He looked down at the child he was holding as he caught his breath for the moment, and for that moment he saw himself. They were around the same age when they both lost their parents: one to the Court, and the other to Apokilips. This boy was just beginning his training to join the Court when the war started. It seemed like the war saved both of them from a different fate, but condemned them to a worse one.

The Court was exposed in the chaos. Majority of their members were hunted down and killed by those monsters. The remaining sent the Talons out to fight the invading horde, or as bodyguards for their remaining members. He was this boy's. And he had failed to protect his family.

"Shh..." He slid his back against a crumbling wall, crumbling to the ground as he tried to comfort the boy. He rubbed the young hatchling's back as he rocked him, mimicking the vague memories he had of his mother when she helped him through a nightmare. "It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay."

"But... Mommy and Daddy..." The boy sobbed, barely able to speak. He was terrified. A sweet boy who should have seen more happiness and sunlight instead of the darkness that came with the Owls and the war. Why did good children have to be dragged into the darkness like they were? "They're... they're..."

"I know..." His head drooped, lightly touching the kid's. Mask touched mask, but couldn't hide how they felt. "Mine are too. I miss them every day. But..." He looked the child in the eye as he tried to give him hope. The last rays of hope he still had from his childhood. "We have to live for them. For our parents. It's what they'd want. They want us to be happy, to live and to grow. We'll make it through this. We will. Remember Superman? He's out there somewhere, fighting the bad monsters and trying to save the world."

This made the boy look up at him for a moment too. "Batman too."

He blinked, vaguely remembering there were other heroes out there. Batman. He heard the name before and slightly resented it. If he was supposed to be the hero of Gotham, why hadn't he saved him as a boy? Saved him from the Court? But this child believed in him, so he nodded. "Batman too. They'll end this. They'll end this and..."

He stopped. If the war ended, what would happen next? What would they do? He was a Talon, made to serve the Court. Though he fought the programming in him at every turn, it didn't change the fact he was a slave, and this boy was supposed to become his master.

But if he killed his masters...

The roar of a parademon broke his thoughts, jerking his head around to find the source while a small face buried itself into his clothes, frightened. The Talon held on to him protectively, instinct taking over. He couldn't let this child be hurt. How could he even consider killing a scared kid? There had to be another way, a way they could both live. A way they could fly free. But only after this war was over.

He struggled to his feet and started running again amongst the ruins in that part of Gotham. He slid to a halt in front of a manhole with an owl on its cover, pulling it off and leaping down below. If he followed this line they could get to a bunker and-

The roar of three parademons surrounding them stopped him in his tracks. Three. He hadn't even managed to kill one! And with a kid in his arms... Quickly he threw a knife into the throat of the closest one then dived between the legs of next one, one arm around the kid the entire time. He managed to hamstring that one before running as fast as he could, going in the opposite direction of the bunker. He was running out of ideas and who knew how many more of these things were out there.

The child in his arms shook in fear, not able to even look up at the fighting. His tight grip on his protector made it easier for him to fight, but not to the fullest ability. If he was going to really take down these demons, he'd have to let go of the kid. But one look at him and he knew he couldn't. This boy needed him. Needed him more than anything right then. Abandoning him and running would save his own skin easily, but one thing the Court couldn't take from him was his humanity.

As they came to a truly dead end, he took a shaky breath and started to accept it. It was over. They were going to die. The youngest Talon and the youngest entry into the Court of Owls. If this was it, they may as well face death in the eye.

Turning around, he watched the angry monsters coming towards them. The child's strangled, fearful sobs, drove needles into his heart, far deeper than the fear of dying at the hands of these things. Quietly he tried to soothe the boy's last moments, rubbing his back and holding him closer as he crooned in his ear. "Shh... It'll be alright. We're going to be alright. We'll be seeing our parents soon. It'll all be over soon."

Slowly he closed his eyes as they came closer, waiting for the inevitable. "It'll be alright Timmy. I'm here. I won't leave you. We'll always be together."

' _Because they'll never find us here,_ ' he mentally added. A few tears dripped down his face as he mentally prayed it'd be quick. ' _I'm sorry kid. I couldn't save you either._ '

Slowly he opened his eyes again, watching them get closer to them. They roared menacingly, raising their weapons to strike the two down. Here it came.

But it didn't.

A high pitched screech filled the air for a moment, making him wince slightly but it was nothing in compare to what happened to the parademons. With only that warning, all three monsters collapsed before them. They shook for a moment, then... died.

They were dead.

The monsters hunting them were dead.

Dead.

The Talon gaped for a minute in shock, then fell to the ground, shaking in relief. They were alive. He and the boy were alive! The bad guys were down. By some miracle they survived! They could live for their parents' sakes.

They survived.

Relief flooded him as he sat in sewage, sparking a rise of giggles from his chest. They were alive! The good guys, Superman, Batman, and that Wonder Lady, they must have done something to save them all. The bad guys were dead. All dead. And they were alive.

"Timmy look." He eased his grip off the kid and prodded him to turn around and see what happened. "We won. They're dead. The bad guys are dead. We're safe now."

The boy looked at the monsters now laying in the sewage before them, dead as doornails. Despite the act being a sign of the bad being gone, he still shook and cried. After a moment the kid swayed and collapsed against the teen. One look at the boy and he smiled in compassion. All the fear and stress had exhausted him. And the kid was cute when he was sleeping.

Gently he held the boy close and picked himself off the ground. The Owl mask fell off the boy as he stood up, revealing a tear stained face of innocence, sleeping away. He caught the mask before it fell into the sewage and started moving forward. They had to get to that bunker and see what the damage was. Stepping on the monsters' corpses was very satisfying along the way. The idea they were safe from these monsters made him lighter, happier. Something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was smiling.

How long until that went away again?

All too soon they were at the bunker the Owls set up years ago. The Talon set the boy down on a cot in there, covered him with a blanket, then looked around as he peeled off his head gear. He never been in this bunker, just knew it had to be there. Every owl figure in the city was connected to the Court in one way or another and bunkers were typically accessible through the sewer system. The place had weapons on every wall and spare supplies in a closet to the side, both food and medical. When the war started, supplies for the Owls themselves were put in, just to be safe.

A computer terminal sat not too far away, one of the few that could connect to any and all networks around the globe. He hadn't had much time with computers, even before he was taken, but he did know how to read. Setting the masks aside, he pressed the on buttons to start it up. As soon as the contraption was up and running, he opened up a browser and looked through the favorite list for an active news network. It was already broadcasting what it could, mostly that parademons were dropping from the skies. The teen turned up the volume to hear the news.

" _The towers are down!_ "

" _Last reports see Superman and Wonder Woman outside the tower in Metropolis._ "

" _Steppenwolf murdered Wonder Woman._ "

" _Batman seen going into the Apokilips tower in Metropolis._ "

" _Superman reported being ripped apart by parademons._ "

" _Large explosions at every parademon control tower reported._ "

" _Supergirl and the Batwing have disappeared into an opening boomtube._ "

" _Multiple nuclear blasts at attacked bases of the World's Army._ "

" _No signs of Batman exiting the tower before explosion._ "

" _Looks like this is it people. The war is over! We've won! And all thanks to the sacrifice of our greatest heroes: Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and Robin. These five are the ones responsible for taking down the towers from Apokilips, ending the parademon horde's collective consciousness and control, and ending all boomtube activity. My fellow residents of Earth, we are now free. The war is over._ "

He listened to every report, let them go on repeat for hours. They all said the same thing. War over. Wonders dead. Heroes saved them all. They were free.

For a moment he looked over to the boy still asleep on the cot. The world was free, but was he? Were they? It'd be so easy for him to slip out then and let the kid fend for himself. He personally would probably do better alone, but the kid wouldn't. He was just nine years old. If the boy survived to reach adulthood, he'd rejoin the Owls and hunt him down. May even remake the Court and Talons just to take over and get his revenge. So many things could go wrong if he left then.

But if the Court of Owls still existed... if they managed to survive like they had...

' _It's a risk I'll have to take._ ' Taking a deep breath, the Talon settled in a chair next to the boy. Timothy. He had to remember. The child's name was Timothy. And his own name...

The teen kept a vigil next to the hatchling's side, waiting for the inevitable moment when he would awaken and cry for his parents; his parents who were surely dead. The hours past with only the continual reports on the computer screen and the boys breathing breaking the silence. While he waited, he tried to formulate plans. He didn't like planning too far ahead, and he hated manipulating people, but this was his chance. He only prayed this fledgling owl would change his nature before he too became like those controlling predators of the night.

Eventually the boy moaned in his sleep, nightmares taking control. His heart throbbing for him, the half-baked soldier picked him up and held him close to ease away his fears. Never could bear to see another suffer. Slowly the boy woke, tears in his eyes. The first thing he saw was the one who saved him from the monsters for so long, and he knew not everything was a dream.

"They're really gone, aren't they?" Timothy's small voice trembled as he asked, but he had to know the answer.

Slowly his soldier nodded. "Yes, they are."

Again the child trembled, traumatized to say the least. He curled further into the teen's chest, desperate for comfort. And the older boy eagerly gave it.

They sat in silence for a long time, strangled sobs and the news being the only sounds once again. The Talon could tell his charge was getting weaker by the minute and would need sustenance soon, but couldn't make himself leave the child for a moment. Eventually though, the boy spoke again.

"The monsters are all gone?"

"Seems that way." He looked back the way they came. "Those parademons coming after us just collapsed and died."

"You could take them."

He huffed out a weak laugh. "I doubt that."

"You can do anything. You can fly."

That made him blink, looking back down on the kid. "What?"

"I saw you fly. Years ago. You can do anything. I was so sad when they said you died..." He gripped his tunic even tighter, scared. "You came back. Will Mommy and Daddy come back too?"

Watching the innocent child for a moment, his mind started to reel. He knew him? Before he was taken by the Court? Though his mind strained to figure that out, he shook his head for the kid's sake. "No Timmy. I didn't die back then, they only made it look like I did. Your parents... they really..." He took a deep breath as he delivered the news once again. "They're gone. Really gone."

Hope left the kid's face. His eyes locked on the shirt he was grabbing before burying himself in it once again. "Are you going to leave me too?"

Again he shook his head, having already made his decision. "I won't. I'll stay with you, for as long as you need me." His head drooped a fraction as he admitted the truth. "I am your servant. I'll do whatever it is you need me to."

He couldn't say no to the boy, on so many levels. One because of his conditioning by the court, and two because he was just a child, one whose whole world was destroyed. Just like his was. He'd stay with him, for as long as he would have him. Being tied to a child was preferable to being back with the other Talons.

"I don't want a servant," the child murmured. He tugged on the guy's shirt a bit, making certain he was still there. "I just want my family back."

"I know." And he did know. It was all he wanted too. To go back to when life was good, back when it was him and his parents at the circus. He'd do anything to go back to happier days.

After a minute of silence, Timmy looked up at him pleadingly. "Will you be my family?"

He blinked, watching the kid again in surprise. Was he really asking? Watching his eyes for a moment, he relaxed and held him a little closer, running a hand through his hair. "Yes. I'll be your family, your big brother. Just promise me I'll never be a Talon, and I will always be your brother and never leave you."

"I promise," came the younger one's reply, and he knew he'd keep that promise. Hearing those words, knowing they had just changed fate, and would make it a happy life, warmed his heart more than anything.

They stayed like that for a while longer before he released his strong hold, smiling at his new brother comfortingly. He knew he'd be smiling more now, if not for his sake then for little Timmy. "Then I think it's time we were properly introduced. My name, the one my parents gave me, is Richard John Grayson. But everyone just called me Dick. And you are?"

"Timothy Jackson Drake. But you knew that." He blinked at the older owlishly. "Can brothers have different last names?"

"Don't know," Dick admitted. He inclined his head to the computer. "There's a lot I don't know. I'm supposed to be dead but I'm not. If we're going to make this work, we have a lot to learn before the dust settles. How good are you on a computer?"

* * *

1 - Six months ago

Dick Grayson cracked open an eyelid to see what the time was before even thinking about leaving his bed. It was soft, fluffy, and had a very cuddly visitor in it he didn't want to wake. Glaring at the numbers, he slowly eased himself into a sitting position. It was another day, and he had to get everything ready to go.

The small teen who frequently slept in the large bed with him murmured in his sleep, reflexively moving towards the warmth that was trying to leave. Dick smirked to himself as he put a comforting hand on Tim's back, making the kid relax once again.

Well he wasn't much of a kid anymore. He was going to turn fourteen that year. How the time flies.

Slowly the acrobat slid out of the blanket and recovered the boy so he could sleep for another half hour without any problems. He was up too late the previous night, and it was all Dick's fault. If he didn't need the little genius/ex-Owl chirping in his ear while he was out and about, the boy would have gone to bed at a decent hour. But as it was, Tim's voice was the only thing that would stop him from going too far.

Shaking his head at all the implications, the young man slipped out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. He had breakfast and lunches to make. Silently he glided into the next most used part of their apartment/penthouse, turning on the radio to hear the local news as he worked. Cereal for himself and waffles and bacon for the growing teen, plus sandwiches for later in the day.

" _Reports of a new Gotham vigilante have appeared now in every district_." Hearing the report made him smirk, but Dick didn't say a single word. " _Some say he's the son of Batman while others say he's a Kryptonian legend come to life. All anyone can confirm is he's a young man who wears mostly black, with some blue across his chest and arms. He has a simple mask on his face and black hair. Some people claiming to be attacked by this young man say he is a ruthless killer, while others who were saved by him say he's a charming flirt._ "

"Not my fault they're cute," he murmured, pouring the batter on the waffle iron. Even he liked to have fun on the job.

" _He even protects children, rumored in having taken down the Gotham West Side trafficking ring last month. Thirty-seven children were recovered, and each had lollipops in hand when the police arrived._ "

"It's not done quite yet," the young man muttered to himself, thinking of recent events. Without a thought he slapped three slices of bacon on a nearby frying pan to get them to cook. Three for one and three for the other. "Still need to catch Zucco."

" _Each time, the young vigilante says his name is Nightwing, after the acclaimed Kryptonian legend found in Lois Lane-Kent's book,_ 'From Rao's Krypton to God's Earth: Tales from the Home World of Superman'. _Some people have noted the similarities between the legends of Nightwing and our own urban legend and Wonder, Batman. Because of the similarities, some have claimed Nightwing is the reincarnation of Batman, or the son we never knew about._ "

"Oh please!" Dick gave the radio a sidelong glare, annoyed. "Not every powerless vigilante has to be related to the big scary bat. I just liked the name."

" _Regardless of who or what this Nightwing is, Gotham PD has issued a warrant for his arrest. Yes, despite all the good this young man has done, it does not change the fact he has taken the law into his own hands. As a reminder to all citizens around the globe, it is unlawful for anyone outside of law enforcement to apprehend or confront criminals._ "

"Nowadays that is." He pouted as he flipped over the bacon at the report. "Never heard of a citizen's arrest? Neighborhood watch? Sheesh... with the World Army everywhere, it's hard for good people to stand up for what's right anymore."

" _If anyone has seen or is in contact with this Nightwing, please call your local police department at-_ " The anchorman rattled of a series of numbers but he didn't care. It was the same number every time they made an announcement like this. Kinda boring. Couldn't they spice it up? Put out the President's number once or twice?

That was an idea. The guy was an idiot and a jerk, so why not hack into the news coverage and make the anchors say the President's number? Maybe a bit illegal, but it was relatively harmless as a prank and knowing the CIA, they'd take care of it after the first call was made. That'd be a good way to stick it to the man.

The anchorman went on, now talking about a college football game. Mostly Dick tuned it out as he finished setting up breakfast, putting a cover over the hot foods to keep them warm until it was time to eat. His bowl of cereal was still dry and would be waiting for him after his shower anyway. He was kind of sick of wearing his Kevlar/nomex pants anyway.

Yawning and stretching, the new vigilante strode down the hall to the bathroom to shower. Occasionally he did a few flips and cartwheels to get the kinks out of his body, but mostly he practiced his stealth. Timmy still needed his sleep. Silly kid.

The shower itself was quite nice. Nightwing left him so exhausted last night he didn't do anything more than remove his shirt and boots before slipping into his bed. His kid brother was already there, passed out, and he wasn't about to move him, so he just laid down and fell asleep.

That was last night. Now it was morning. Time to wake up, clean up, then eat. Man he was tired. Yawning again, Dick started talking to himself. "How long until nights aren't a problem? A month? Two? A year? A- GAAAHH!"

The water somehow turned cold, jerking him out of his musings. Well, he was awake now. Angered, he pulled back part of the curtain and spotted a half asleep and blind Tim starting to leave the bathroom, the toilet bowl starting to refill itself. "Timmy!"

"Hm?" Bleary eyed, the teen turned to face him. Still not awake, at all. "Yeah?"

Frustrated, Dick tried to keep control of his temper while reprimanding the boy. "Didn't you hear the shower?! Don't use the toilet while I'm showering!"

"Oh... Right..." Tim yawned broadly and kept on going out of the room. "Forgot... Food..."

Sighing, the young man shook his head and finished up his cleaning ritual as quickly as he could. "Need to remember to lock the door... Probably should ask a doctor about teenaged low blood pressure too. Way too low lately."

He sighed a second time, turned the water off, and hurried to dry up before leaving the small room. Wrapped in only a towel, he hurried back to his room to get dressed, only to find Tim sleeping on his bed again. Sighing dramatically, Dick started nudging the kid awake. "Come on Timbo. You want to eat before school right?"

"Hmg..." The teen nearly growled in his sleep, really not wanting to wake up. He was such a heavy sleeper... Dick rolled his eyes, walked over to his chest of drawers and started pulling out something to wear that day, tossing each article of clothing onto the sleepy student. "Dick..."

"It's either you lay there and watch me get dressed before I drag you to breakfast, or get up yourself and get changed in your own room." He looked back to the teen, smirking a little. This would get him vertical. "Your choice."

Finally opening his dark blue eyes, Tim shoved himself upward, tossing the clothes back on the bed before leaving the room. Despite having spent the past four plus years with each other, the kid still had a propriety streak in him. Manners and cultural ethics were engrained into him as a hatchling by his parents, and like Dick he kept every one of those lessons and memories close to his heart. Thankfully the lust for power and money were not priorities in the Drake household.

Smirking, Dick shook his head and changed into dry, normal clothes. A plain white tee under a loose blue button down long sleeve shirt graced his top while soft, durable blue jeans covered his legs. His black canvas high tops finished his college kid image (hey, he was the right age for it), ending with a broken owl talon on a string necklace around his neck. It was simply a reminder of what he no longer was, and never will be again.

Once dressed, he slid several small weapons in the folds and pockets of his clothes, all in places for easy access. He needed them, always. Dick Grayson technically had custody of Tim Drake as his bodyguard and guardian, wishing they could have been brothers officially. Despite being able to fake his continuing existence in the legal world, and adapting the Drake's will to keep them together, they couldn't find any other way to handle their situation. Some documents were lost in the war, but not enough to completely cover their tracks. So Dick was Tim's bodyguard and caretaker to the world, that was it.

Boy would social services have a fit if they knew how much the kid hung onto him.

Tim had spent half the night keeping him in line over the comlink and had school that morning. He really needed all the sleep he could get. The kid was thirteen for pity's sake! A brilliantly smart thirteen year old halfway out of high school, but still thirteen. Fourteen in a couple months true, but still...

For a minute he watched his kid brother snoozing away, smiling to himself. The deal he made at the end of the war was so worth every second since. The Court of Owls were finished, dead, gone. So were the Talons. They were the last of each, and neither had fully formed in their traditions. All their resources were at their disposal, and they were using them for a completely different reason. The money and assets they possessed financed their life styles, and all their gear and hideouts took care of other needs. No one bothered them.

It had been relatively easy for Dick Grayson to come back from the dead and take custody of Timothy Drake. During the war records were destroyed everywhere. All they had to do was make official looking records and slide it into the system while it was down. Dick was declared an emancipated adult due to his orphan status without a fight, and the Drakes' will now made him the caretaker of their child. With the high amounts of children now in the system, Tim purposely slipping through the cracks was really easy. They did a good job covering their tracks too, using all of the Owls' avenues and methods to get this done. Tim did the paperwork and cyber stuff while Dick did the legwork. Desecrating his own grave to get rid of the tombstone was actually pretty fun.

That was nearly five years ago now. Many cities and areas had been restored while others were deemed too damaged to repopulate. Gotham was somewhere between the extremes, always was in a way. They were still in the midst of reconstruction, but without the healthy dose of Wayne money, it was slow going. Who knew that guy had so much influence over one city? And had no ties to the Court of Owls? Too bad the whole Wayne family was MIA after the war. A few more years and they'd all be declared dead.

Either way, the two of them were still in Gotham, trying to live as best they could. Using the Court's money, they managed to get an apartment in one of the older, still standing Wayne buildings, just above the hidden level the Owls put in there. Their trap door to the place came in handy in case they needed to not be home for whatever reason, but mostly they used it to get to their base of operations.

It was something they debated for the past year to do, and just last month they put their plan into action. Just because Dick was trained to be a Talon, didn't mean he had to kill the Owls' enemies. He didn't have to let his skills or instincts rot away either. Without Batman in the city anymore, or the Owls in the background, criminals were beginning to run rampant. The local PD were good, but they also took orders from the World Army, and they preferred to shoot first whenever the unexplained and uncontrolled popped up. They needed a new vigilante, a new 'Wonder', in Gotham City in order to protect its citizens and bring criminals to justice.

And that was what Dick was doing last night, being the new vigilante.

Slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he could see his Kevlar/nomex suit scattered around the room. Mostly he wore black, but the blue birdlike design on the chest and running down his sleeves, was a nice addition. No cape, no cowl, just a high tech domino mask with white lenses and a slight change in hair style and color, and he was in business. The two of them chose the name 'Nightwing' from this book Lois Lane-Kent wrote, telling the world about Kryptonian legends. He rather liked it, and Tim said it paid homage to both Batman and Superman, something that'd satisfy anyone who paid attention.

Course they only been at this for one month. Nightwing went out into the field to fight bad guys at night, mostly two-bit crooks who took no time at all so far, and the entire time he was out, Tim would be on the other end of a comline while working on a computer. The kid wasn't athletic enough to go out with him (heaven forbid he ever did), but his computer skills were top notch. He could find crimes, make certain the right cops got to the scene, and could give him intel on the perps whenever needed. He had this idea he should be codenamed 'Oracle' because of his cool computer skills, but it sounded so much like a girl's name Dick just called him 'T' on the line.

Thus far they were a pretty good crime fighting team. Tim found the crimes and Dick took out the crooks. Whenever the Talon training tried to take complete control over him in a fight, a few words from the last Owl settled him down. The down side of all of this was having Tim stay up so late. The young man couldn't go out there without his conscience in his ear. He didn't trust himself that much.

Had they started this arrangement after the war, Dick would have said no. There was too much at risk. Timmy was just a kid then, one horribly traumatized. He could still remember how much the boy's voice shook back when they started being family instead of servant and master. There was no way he was leaving him after that. It was only after several years they even considered being separated for more than just Tim going to school.

The two were practically joined at the hip. They still slept in the same bed most nights, just to keep the nightmares from returning, and even that was hit or miss. The first few weeks Tim returned to school were difficult for both of them, but after putting tracers in their watches and wallets, along with the pendants they wore under their shirts, they could stand a few hours apart. This level of trauma was quite common with the orphaned citizens of Gotham, but it was for many more reasons than just reassurance.

Despite the Owls being dead and gone, Tim was a pawn others could use for their resources. Those who knew about Tim's existence and what he alone had access to, had a tendency to try and take him. Try. They rarely got far. Dick wasn't about to let anyone have the last Owl, ever. They wouldn't get his brother.+

* * *

 **And that's where I stopped.**

Yeah I get a lot of good ideas and then stop after the first few chapters. I had this plot bunny ever since I heard about the Court of Owls (not read yet) that it'd be cool if Tim was supposed to be part of the court as well. I gave it to his mom's side and a lot of other things I guess. Tim and Dick are my favorites so I wanted to see how that would go.

In this idea, Dick eventually gets paired up with the suspicious young detective Barbara Gordon and they, along with Tim playing Oracle, investigate the 'Batman' that's recently come out of the wood work. Alfred also comes in, acting first as a detourent to their activities (trying to get them to not do what Bruce did) but eventually acts as their father figure, helping Tim get a better handle on his job. Jason's the new Batman here, with Steph as Robin and Cass as Batgirl, having found the batcave under Wayne Manor. They fight for a little while, but then become partners. When Helena Wayne returns to her world, she's in for a small shock, but then becomes grateful to them for upholding her family's legacy. Timeline wise, this starts six months before volume 1 of Earth 2's main plot does.

Sorry for all the bird jokes. They were irresistible when I wrote this. Up for grabs!


	3. Wayne Family Orphanage

Original idea: AU version of how the batfamily comes together and still functions in a more real life world. Still have all the crazies in it though. XD This is a more real life take on how the Batfam would exist in a more grounded, realistic world. Mostly new takes on their origin stories, told to one person in particular.

* * *

 _ **Wayne Family Orphanage**_

 _Welcome to the Manor_

The police car rolled up to the gate's intercom, carrying only two occupants, soon to be one. The officer inside pressed the button and called in. "Bullock here with another one for ya. Looks like a semi-permanent. Case file already in the big guys' hands. Open up!"

As the iron gates opened before him, Bullock glanced over to the kid in his passenger seat. Black hair, blue eyes, semi-comatose state, tragic past, yeah, this kid was going to fit right in. The boy couldn't be older than seven and hadn't said a word since the incident.

That wouldn't last long. Every kid he ever met who went to this place, even for a little while, became loud and excitable within a month. It was like the Olive Garden: when you're here, you're family.

As soon as the car was in front of the house, the greeting party ran towards it. Bullock thought it was best to warn the kid now. "Well, here yer are. Yer home away from home until this mess gets sorted out. They're a bit weird kid, but they mean well. And besides, yer've got a lot in common with them."

He reached over the boy and opened the door for him, nudging him out of his seat. The kid stared at him for a moment, then scooted out the door to face the elaborate building and the two young adults grinning at him from the stairs. The boy hardly heard the car door slam behind him or the vehicle drive off. He didn't even respond when both adults were coming towards him. It was only when the tall, limber man knelt down before him, placing his hands on the boy's shoulder that he responded.

The young man grinned happily as he spoke. "Hey there kiddo. Welcome to Wayne Manor. I'm Dick Grayson, the first official orphan resident."

The boy gaped at him silently, bewilderment filling his eyes. Dick couldn't help but to smile. "I know, I'm old enough to live on my own, but Bruce needs as much help as he can get around here. I kinda owe it to him since he started all of this because of me.

"This is Barbara Gordon," he tilted his head over to the redhead in glasses behind him. She waved with a smile, leaning over a little to be on eye level with him. "She's a regular volunteer here too. Her dad's the Commissioner, and he's personally working on your case."

To this the boy's face opened up a fraction. He heard about the Commissioner of Gotham City before. He was the head of the police department right? That meant he was the best. The best was going to help him.

"In the meantime though," Dick continued, "you'll be staying here with us. Come on inside and meet the rest of us."

"There's lots of room," Barbara started, picking up the kid's one bag. Dick gently took the boy's hand, letting him still hold onto his stuffed monkey. Slowly they helped him up the stairs to the manor's large doors. "This was originally the Manor House of the Wayne family, built back in the early eighteen hundreds. It's had hundreds of renovations over the century and more rooms than there's ever been residents.

"Well, permanent residents at one time," she amended. "Since Bruce turned this place into an orphanage for violent crime victims, there's been hundreds of residents since then. But only a handful of permanent ones."

"And permanent doesn't mean unable to be adopted," Dick insisted. The boy looked up to him, confusion in his eyes. "It means we didn't want to leave. Bruce believes very strongly in giving us choices. If he could adopted everyone, he would have."

The boy cocked his head to the side, still not understanding. Barbara picked it up quickly and punched Dick in the arm. "Hey stupid, you're going too fast for him."

Dick laughed it off as he pulled one of the double doors open for them. "Sorry sorry. I get ahead of myself sometimes. Let's take it back a notch.

"It all started with me when I was eight," the man began, leading them into the front entryway of the manor. "I saw my parents fall to their deaths during a show at our circus." The kid's eyes widened in shock, suddenly remembering his own trauma for a moment and unable to fathom how this guy could laugh and smile now.

"It wasn't an accident like people first believed. The other day I overheard Tony Zucco threaten the circus manager if he didn't pay protection money. Then before the performance I saw him near the ropes, pretending to be one of the hands. But few people would believe me when I told them, so I was sent straight to a juvenile facility without any say in the matter.

"Bruce Wayne was in the audience, and considering his own past…" Dick let it hang, shrugging. The kid looked at him blankly. He didn't know anything about this 'Bruce Wayne', and so far no one would tell him a thing.

Seeing his confusion, Barbara explained. "Everyone who lives here is an orphan kid, and by rule of thumb, only you're allowed to tell your story. At least the first time around."

"Well," Dick continued, "not everyone's an orphan. We've got a few who live here because of other reasons. But nearly everyone's connected by violent crimes."

"Or just violence," Barbara murmured.

"Anyway," the man tried again, helping them into the main parlor, "back to my story and how this all started. Bruce wanted to take me in back then, make sure I had a good life. But due to his playboy reputation and tendency to travel the world back then, the courts denied him. All the money in the world can't buy you a kid nobody wants it seems.

"So Bruce found a way to beat the system!" Dick grinned broadly as he finished his tale. "He decided to turn this huge place of his into an orphanage for all of us. Trauma victims, criminals' kids, key witnesses, all the ones the cops should keep track of but sometimes forget. He and Alfred run the place with a few other workers.

"We have a resident doctor, cook and jack-of-all-trades here. Lots of room to run around, and so many options, you'd think we were living in the lap of luxury!" He looked around cheerily as he finished his tale. "Bruce took on me and probably two dozen more problem kids from the local orphanages, keeping it to a certain criteria, and that's how all of this started."

"Most of the kids are reconnected with long lost relatives who actually give a… hoot… about them," Barbara explained, placing the boy's bag on one of the couches in the room. "Bruce is all about family and making certain people can recover after what happened to them. If none can be found—"

"Especially after a million background checks on those he does find," Dick piped in. "He's not leaving anyone with a psycho."

"Then they go on adoption."

"Always to a good family that'll love them and keep in contact with the rest of us." The man grinned. "I've got quite a few friends out there."

"We all do." Barbara smiled fondly at a memory of someone for a moment. "Since Bruce opened up his home, his whole image has changed."

"Hmm… mostly." The sneaky look on Dick's face would have made anyone over the age of ten laugh. He gestured over to the mantel where several individual photographs stood. On either side of the fireplace were rows upon rows of group pictures, each with a year at the bottom of them. Looking at them all, there was only two years when this man's face was not present, somewhere in the middle of this timeline.

"The world now views him as a big time family man, one who still can't get a wife for himself. Everyone on the mantel there are us permanent and semi-permanent residents. Meaning we've been here for at least three years straight and really don't care to leave."

The kid looked over the pictures on the mantel, curiously looking at each one. He saw Dick on the end closest to him, grinning from ear to ear in a police uniform and showing off an award he received. Next to him was another young man, this one with a white lock of hair in front and giving the camera an annoyed glare with his green eyes while he was trying to get out of the engine of a car. Then came an Asian girl who merely looked curious while fiddling with the dress she was probably forced to wear. Besides her picture was one of an amused late teenager in glasses looking over his shoulder from his computer. Another young lady was in the picture next to his, much older than he, wearing a business suit and looking like she'd like to teach someone a lesson in manners. The last photograph on the mantel was a kid no older than twelve with a surly expression in a prim suit. Each of them had black hair and the majority had blue eyes of varying shades.

"Dick, Jason, Cassandra, Timothy, Helena, and Damian," Barbara concluded. She gave Dick a chiding glance. "I still think Stephanie and I should be included since we've come here all the time since we were kids but…"

"Rules are rules Babs." Dick shrugged helplessly. He looked up in thought. "Besides, if we included you two, we'd also have to add Bette and Kate. Maybe even Selina, or Katrina."

"Katrina's a runaway," the redhead insisted. "I don't care if her family sucks, she shouldn't just run away from them. Report them sure, but to just run off and bug Selina like that—"

"GIVE IT BACK JASON!"

* * *

 **And that's where I stopped.**

Now that I think about it, I came up with a lot of alternate universes...

I didn't even get to the point where I gave the name of the new kid. That's Terry McGinnus. Everyone's in this story, including mentioning the teen titans, all generations. Mostly I take out the aliens, supernatural enemies, serious crazies, and demonic organizations, and replace them with our typical mafias, gang bangers, thugs, and so forth. There's also corporate espionage. I think this may have been an early blueprint for DNB too. Mostly though, it's a retelling of how they came to Bruce's manor, why they stick around, and how they help each other still as a more normal, disjointed, family. Terry's there to guide the audience through this world, especially since he's a traumatized kid who's dad was murdered and his mom and baby brother Matt were kidnapped. he's a material witness in the case and that was the best place to put him.

Really should have finished the first chapter. Ah well. Up for adoption! Just remember to keep it as realistic as possible. I've watched a lot of cop shows over the years so I've got a fair idea how things would go. Not perfect, but fair. Enjoy!


	4. Outsiders

Original idea: After writing _Of all the things..._ I got a new idea on how to fix the 52. Would bring back all the well known missing people in the 52, plus bring back the real Tim and Kara. Will get to because it ignores half the future continuity of the series instead of being dependent on it. Needs better title. Basically, this was me rebelling against the New 52. This started around the time Damian died.

* * *

 **Outsiders**

1

"This is insane..."

They gaped at Donna, having finished explaining what she could. Those gathered with her were the only ones they could reach on the comline, indicating one thing. They hadn't been changed. They hadn't been touched. They were fine. Well most of them.

Their group was gathered in the old Mount Justice medical wing, largely out of commission but since the Titan Towers weren't available, they had to make do with this. The reason: both Red Robin and Supergirl were negatively affected by what had altered their universe, and they needed to hear this this too. The kids, Jai and Irey, plus the one Stephanie picked up in Gotham, Collin, were resting on nearby beds. The new kid was paying attention at least. Wally was with his wife Linda near their kids while the two Batgirls, Stephanie and Cassandra, were near their two hurting friends. Mia, their one archer, looked like she would need the bed rather soon. It was rather shocking news, for all of them.

"How can you be certain?" Mia begged, not wanting to believe what she said. "It could just be some kind of... I dunno... a meta's new power messing with people's heads or some spell that changes our perception. Maybe if we talk to-"

"As much as I wish it was," Donna continued, "it isn't. This is our world but we have no place in it. Everything's been altered: people, friends, family, history's been rewritten. Somehow the League's been around for only five years, going on six, consists of only a few early members, and the Teen Titans don't really exist! The Justice Society, the Doom Patrol, even Young Justice and the Outsiders, they just never existed!"

"How is that possible?" Stephanie demanded. "I mean, I remember them! All of them! And we're right here! If we never existed, how are we here?!"

"I'm not sure." The Amazon rubbed her aching head. "It's like we slipped through the cracks or something."

"An interdimensional and temporal collision shift." Hearing that many five dollar words in a row made everyone look over to Tim, still lying in the bed. He rubbed his eyes, sigh heavily. "I think Kara and I got some kind of backlash from it. Felt like I was being torn apart for a few minutes..."

"I saw some creepy lady with a red cloak," Kara murmured, still aching. Both of them were. It was a good thing both were with these allies of theirs or they'd be in some emergency room with no explanations.

"Same here." Sore, the bird pushed himself into a sitting position. Cass snapped a glare at him telling him to keep still while Steph helped prop him up with pillows. He gave both of them appreciative smiles as he settled back into position. "Think she's behind this?"

"Possible." Donna and Wally looked at each other, trying to remember if they or any of the Leaguers ever ran across someone by that description. So far, nothing else was coming to mind. "Either way we should stay low until we can figure out what caused this and how to reverse it, if we can."

"Why can't we just go ask the Justice League?" Colin seemed greatly unnerved by this, having never had much interaction with heroes other than Robin. It was that interaction though that made it so he could come there. Batgirl had vouched for him, and Red Robin verified his story. He heard about Collin from Dick.

The adults shook their heads. Linda explained best she could. "Flash didn't recognize me. Neither did Iris. They hardly seem to have a relationship. They were married and had kids and grandkids before this... shift. They were helping me with Irey and Jai before. And from what I saw online, there's only been one Flash. How do you think he'll react to seeing two? And a little girl speedster too?"

"Also..." Wally hesitated, looking at the two who had felt the change immediately. He especially didn't know how Tim would take it. He was barely coming back into the swing of the community and now this... He swallowed and pressed on. "Besides us not existing, there's another Supergirl and Red Robin. Completely different from the two of you."

Kara visibly went three shades paler, seemingly ready to vomit. Her reaction was somewhat expected, but not liked. "Are... Are you sure it's just not Karen? We are the same person from different universes after all..."

Donna shook her head, having looked over the articles as well. "There are rumors of a Power Girl too. Unconfirmed, but I know her from anywhere. No, there's two of you from this universe here. Same with Tim."

"So, I've been completely replaced." They watched as their resident Robin just shut down. All emotion left his face and he became perfectly still, like a statue. Steph and Cass looked at each other anxiously, knowing this was a real problem for Tim. He didn't take people's deaths well, and he especially didn't take very well to being replaced by Damian as Robin. Too much had happened to him over the years, and they were breaking him down to nothing. It was like he was disappearing.

"Tim-"

Without warning he jerked himself straight and slid off the bed. Both Batgirls jerked up to stop him when he raised a hand, not looking at them. "Don't. Please, I... I just need a few minutes alone."

"But..."

Behind the girls, Kara started bursting into tears, her breathing ragged and hard. Like him, she couldn't believe she had been replaced. Completely replaced. Conflicted on who to comfort, the Batgirls couldn't move while Tim left the room for a more private corner to break down in. The others sensed they could do nothing more for him right then so let him leave. After all, comforting a bat who wasn't ready for it only made them go into hiding.

Mia followed him out though, making sure he was okay. After walking through a dark hall for a bit, she watched as the smartest and strongest titan she knew, crumble to the floor against a secluded wall, trembling. She could hear him break down into tears and heavy gasps. She looked away, making sure she wasn't seen or heard as she stayed a good twenty feet away from him. There wasn't anything she could do for him anyway. Same with the rest. They could only be there for each other.

Five minutes passed and she thought her heart would break hearing his sobs. The footsteps of Donna and Stephanie were drowned out by his heartbeat in his own ears, but not to the archer. Worry was on both the more experienced heroes' faces, heartbreak even on the blond. She inclined her head to where the boy was hiding just around the corner, prompting them to take care of it. She didn't think she could.

Steph soon had her arms wrapped around her old boyfriend, and he couldn't find it in him to shake her off. Desperate for any acknowledgement of being real, Tim held on to her for dear life. Both were soon held tight by Donna, rubbing both their shoulders. Softly she tried to sooth them with her voice. "We'll get through this. So long as we have each other, we'll get through this. You're not disappearing Tim, not from us. We'll figure this out."

Only strangled sobs answered her. Being replaced like this... After everything he'd been through... Everything he'd done... Now this... How were they going to get through this? How was he?

* * *

2

Two months had passed before they could really get out of their self-pity and take a look around the world. Flash was, as usual, the first to recover. He'd been out and about with his family as a cover, trying to get a better idea what was going on in the world. Donna was flying about too, coming back to the old League headquarters every night to make sure the others were okay. The rest were fixing up the cave, making it function like it once did. Tim led them in this, being the only other person who remembered how it was before being completely decommissioned. It kept him and Kara distracted from being replaced by someone just like them, yet not.

Both of them were still pretty shaken up by the whole ordeal. Kara wanted to fly to Smallville and talk to the Kents for advice, but they told her point blank that until they knew more they couldn't contact any more of their families. A quick search online regarding them and other family members though put an end to most of their wishes. The Kents were dead now. Stephanie's parents never met and she couldn't find her mother at all. There were no records of Mia's existence and Lady Shiva was reported to be too young to have a child Cass' age. Collin also had no birth records. It didn't even look like Tim Drake really existed either, except on paper.

As a result, the bird didn't even check up on the batclan. None of them really kept an eye out for their families that couldn't remember them. It made it easier to bear. At least for those who weren't paying attention to the outside world.

"Ya know," Wally started after the third month began in solitary, "it kinda looks like they're getting their feet knocked from underneath them out there. The League's been turned from heroes to potential menaces by the press, especially Superman. Apparently they're not very good at keeping in people's good graces."

"With any luck they won't have to deal with Checkmate again. Pliers." Cass handed Tim the tools he needed as he reworked the zetatubes. There was a chance the tech they knew by heart could be adapted to the tech they found there. It was a good thing this place used to be the headquarters for Tim's first team else they'd all be lost. How this place survived the 'Shift' was still a mystery to them. Along with how they did. "Any other pertinent news before you go back to fixing up this place?"

"There is a Teen Titans."

The resounding 'thunk' and 'ow' coming straight after the statement made Wally smile. He was all too happy to hear about this. "Uhg... what?"

"You heard me. There's a Teen Titans." His smirk only grew wider as his best friend's brother pulled out from underneath the panel he was working on, gaping at him. It was rare to get the kid off guard like this, even now. "They aren't like how we were of course. They're actually the first generation of Titans here and-"

"Spit it out Wally." Tim's sharp glare could duel Batman's at that point. "Who's on the roster?"

"Just remember that they may not be the same people you knew, 'kay kid?" When he didn't get a response, he just let the names fly. "Well there's Kid Flash/Bart, Wonder Girl/Cassie, Superboy/Conner, and some newer people called Solstice, Bunker, and Skitter. And of course, there's you. Or your double. Evil twin..."

The teen glared at him during the last part. "It's too soon to tell if he's evil Wally. And just call him my doppelganger. It's as close to accurate as you're going to get."

That made him laugh a bit. "Yeah yeah, I get it. So... It looks like he's friends with your friends..."

Tim looked away for a moment before picking back up his tools and going back to work. "Should it really be that big a surprise? If we're the same person why wouldn't we have the same friends?"

The speedster shrugged. "Well, this other Supergirl doesn't seem very social... and has very odd tastes in clothes... So does your doppelganger. Looked like a show girl when I saw him. Wings and all."

"Wings?" The slight whine in his voice made the man snicker. Yeah, wings. The bird sighed heavily. "Man, I'm glad when the shift happened I was in that I was in my new uniform."

"No wings, no cowl. Where did you get the idea for that costume?" He wanted to know for a while the reason why he changed from looking a lot like Batman to a red Nightwing with a cape. Besides the obvious fact that he still hero worshiped Dick that is.

"My time in the Uthernet. Socket wrench. 8mm." Cass passed over the next tool without question. She could read him like a book and knew he was keeping his hands busy to help him get used to the new intel. If there wasn't so much to work on around the cave, he would never have become as chatty as he was right then.

"What was that like?" Wally asked, trying to keep him in a good mood. If Dick ever found out about his bad ones, he'd have his hide handed to him. That was if he ever remembered who they really were.

"Don't recommend it. Takes away a lot of inhibitions. I think that does it for this section. Now we just need a zetapoint to test it with." He crawled out from under the thing and closed the panel. "Did you fix up the one in Happy Harbor?"

"Pretty much." The speedster zipped out and came back with a melon in hand. "It was in pretty bad condition, I'll tell ya that, but not out of neglect or sabotage. It looked more like a half-finished project."

"Yeah? Well so is this place." Tim took the fruit and eyed the man for a moment. "Cantaloupe?" All Flash could do was grin. The teen shook his head and placed it in the tube for transport. "If it doesn't work, you can't blame it on the fruit. Coordinates in... and energize."

He tapped a panel to the side for a moment then they watched as the place lit up. In an instant the fruit was gone, and Flash was zooming off to elsewhere. It gave them a minute or two to breathe and take in the latest information. "So the Titans exist..."

"Your friends are alive," Cass reminded him. She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Do you want to see them?"

The bird paused for a second, seriously considering it before shaking his head. "One Red Robin is enough for them right now. How will they take it when they find out there's two? I don't even know how the others will take it. Nightwing might handle it better and I'm pretty sure Robin would try to kill me, again. And Bruce..." He shook his head again. "He'll do test after test, I'm sure. Take complete control of the investigation."

"And Barbara?"

He took a long breath before answering. "Honestly, I have no idea what she'd do, especially now that she's Batgirl again."

Tim took a small break from his repairs and went to his computer not too far off, activating a program on it that kept track of Jason. He was the only one he looked up online, just to make sure he didn't come over uninvited and started beating the crap out of him, again. So far the rogue bird seemed to be acting in a more predictable manner, even civil. Something involving owls occurred in Gotham recently and he had helped, a bit. It was... strange.

"Everything hinges on how much experience they all have with alternate worlds and timelines. Unless they have their minds wrapped around that nicely, it'll take a lot to convince them we're telling the truth."

"DNA not proof enough?" his long time comrade and near sister asked, cocking her head again.

"Not this time around. They're more likely to think clones if Superboy's around. Without Martian Manhunter on their team, the League can't verify a stranger's statement with memories." A slight glare appeared on the lad's face as he stared at the screen, not really thinking about what was on it. "Unless we have a clue why the Shift happened or how, we won't even be able to give a conspiracy theorist something to write about. And you know how Bruce is. He doesn't believe in everything until he sees it, but he'll never deny the possibility of something."

Cass nodded, seeing his point. "So... we wait?"

"For now." He sighed heavily. It went against everything he was, everything all of them were, but they had to wait until they got the lay of the land before they could do much of anything. There was one thing though they could look into. "Donna has a theory she wants us to look into as soon as we have enough Zeta tubes set up, but it won't be for a bit. She's gathering more basic intel first then-"

"We have salad!" Wally appeared right next to them, showing a slightly crushed cantaloupe to them. "Fruit salad that is. Still need to work out the kinks."

The teen nodded, closing his laptop. Having Black Bat know of something he was working on the side on was entirely different from having the speedster know. AS much as he trusted him, this was personal. "Apparently."

There was still a lot of work to do.

* * *

3

Another month passed. Majority of the zeta tubes were online and they had a way to get around the world without alerting the League. Tim and Wally had worked hard to make sure this revamped Cyborg couldn't trace or detect the tubes activities either, keeping the energy consumption under the radar best they could. Wasn't easy, especially when they found out how his cybernetic parts worked. They figured if Batman's network didn't get them, Cyborg's would. Good thing Barbara wasn't Oracle here or they'd be screwed.

With the tubes finished, everyone had to find new projects to work on. Mia and Colin took to checking out the local town and getting to know what was going on in the streets these days.

* * *

 **And that's where I stopped**

Actually, I'm surprised I went past chapter 1. this was a pretty good idea. Too bad I never went back to it.

Anyway, premise is simple: all the people we lost when the 52 started, or were rewritten beyond recognition around the time of Damian's death, existed still because of some anomaly when "The Shift" occurred. Tim's not handling it well, and neither is Kara, especially since they both do and don't exist in this world. They're temporal anomalies, and that never sits right in Scifi stories. Anyway, Despite telling others that they can't see their families or be part of their world really, Tim can't sit still and ends up making a mess of things by trying to make it look like the other Tim is in two places at once. This really could help save his secret ID, but Tim mostly uses his talents to do good work for people and to save Dick's life (kinda threw out the crime syndicate story line...). And eventually he gets cornered and caught. The Batfam interrogates him in the cave, Titus gets attached to him, and he ends up saving Alfred's life to prove he's not a threat but actually another version of Tim Drake. Their confrontation was pretty fun in my mind, mostly Tim chewing out swan queen for being a bad leader/soldier/brother/everything! Things happen (not sure what, hence why I stopped) and eventually both Tim and Kara have to make a decision to save the world by ending the temporal anomalies they are. They 'die', but in exchange they get Damian to come back to life! Tim tells Dami to be a good boy and be a good brother in his place, leaving that world with a smile on his face. I think I had them join the Monitors or something. The two of them mostly become forgotten while the others get blended back into the new universe. Damian's the only one who remembers them in the end and starts trying to find a way to get them back. I think I planned a sequel where they did come back... But I don't remember how.

Yeah, it was a long adn complicated idea, but I can't remember who the bad guys were, what else was going on, and what exactly happened anymore. ^^; I can't even remember what the main conflict was other than everyone wanting to survive. Hence why it's here now. Up for adoption! BUt you better know scifi stuff to pass this one.


	5. Further Down the Line

Original Idea: Sorta AU? What if Bruce didn't come back to his original time when he returned? What if he came home 60 years later? And what if all of his adventures in the past ended with WWII, something that disguised their epic battle with Darkside? Puts Bruce in our time without his Robins and a lot of things have changed. It'll be interesting to see him adapt, come back as Batman, and deal with the boys' descendants who actually care. Three or more OCs fill in the void. Just a fun idea to reboot the 52 with a more logical look. *evil laugh* Mostly me messing with everything and being overly dramatic.

* * *

 _ **Further Down the Line**_

 _Not Forgotten_

1

Sixty years.

Bruce could hardly believe it. He was gone sixty years. Sixty years! The world had changed so much, and yet at the heart of it all, everything was the same.

For the dark knight, only one year had transpired. He jumped through centuries uncontrollably, participating in minor events that meant a great deal in the world's history, particularly Gotham's. He messed with a god's plans, won against metaphysical problems, and had paid the price dearly.

Looking over the graves in the cemetery, the time he lost in his journeys was very apparent. For him only a year had past. He wished beyond wish that he could go back fifty-nine years just to return to where he belonged. But those who helped him return couldn't manage it until just then, and they couldn't go back through their own time stream. Rip a hole in reality. Not even their tech could go down that road.

He just had to stay in a time far beyond his own. Sixty years beyond. And the price of time was before him.

The Wayne family cemetery was constantly filling up, and the names were becoming more recognizable by the moment. Martha and Thomas Wayne. John and Mary Grayson. Willis and Catherine Todd, Sheila Haywood. Jack and Janet Drake. Jason Todd. Alfred Pennyworth. Tim Drake-Wayne. James Gordon Sr.. Richard Grayson-Wayne. Damian Wayne. Barbara Gordon.

All dead. Most before their time.

"Tell me how it happened."

The aging Superman behind him sighed heavily, not wanting to remember it all again himself. But Bruce deserved answers. So he started with the first one after his apparent demise. "Tim… he was trying to catch an assassin aiming for the others. The burning building collapsed on him. The assassin died too, but Tim was always pretty small compared to the others. We didn't have the technology to correctly identify him back then. Told the world he died when the yacht blew up.

"Alfred died of old age really. The stress of the war, your apparent death, Tim's actual death, and Dick trying to reform Damian, we think it got to him. Heart attack in his sleep.

"Jim Gordon was caught in the crossfire between the Falcones and Marronis one night. They didn't have enough supplies to keep him alive through surgery. He was about to retire the following week, and stay that way.

"Damian," his voice wavered, "was assassinated by his ex-wife, we think. He put her in Arkham when their son was eleven and a couple weeks after he was shot through the head by a sniper at Wayne Tech. Still haven't found the sniper.

"Barbara died of a drug overdose, or so we believe. The autopsy was inconclusive. The sixties were pretty hard on all of us. Someone slipped her too powerful pain medication when she was going through a new therapy for her legs. The clinic was shut down shortly after."

Bruce turned his head slightly at the pause. That didn't explain two of his boys, or what happened to others he cared for, those who had no graves here. "What about Dick? Jason? Cassandra? Stephanie?"

The man of old steel raised a hand to silence him temporarily. "We don't know everything Bruce. We barely managed to get you back at all."

He looked away for a moment before looking at Dick's grave site. "We don't know what happened to most of them. Jason, we're pretty sure, just left Gotham one day and disappeared of his own accord. No one's seen Red Hood in over forty years.

"Cassandra disappeared shortly after you did. Tim said he was keeping track of her back in the day, but…" He fell silent once more. Their main source of information on her was long gone.

"Stephanie took over being Batgirl for quite a few years. Then I think she became Batwoman before disappearing herself, but not completely. She got married and settled down outside of Gotham. Couple kids. They had kids. I think even they have kids, not sure. Devon told me she died four years ago, old age.

"Most of the Birds of Prey either retired or fell in the line of duty. Everything seemed to fall apart after…." It was hard looking at that grave now.

But Bruce persisted. "Clark, what happened to Dick?"

The alien's eyes shifted uncomfortably. "No one knows. One day he was patrolling the east side of Gotham as Batman and then never returned. No one knows what happened to his girlfriend back then either. Damian was full grown then and took the mantle, but he couldn't bring people together the same way Dick did. Your eldest just… vanished. No warning, no explanation. Everyone's looked for him. The Green Lanterns have his face on their watch list but…"

He didn't want to say it. But it had to be said. "Bruce, even if they found him now, he'd be nearly ninety. Most people who lived during the war haven't lived that long. We've told the lanterns to stop looking for a living person now and start looking for a body we can bury."

Bruce's emotionless face trembled for a moment before looking back to the graves. His eyes locked onto one in particular. His own. Declared dead seven years after his disappearance. In 1949 rather than 42.

All those he cared about most fell within thirty years of his disappearance. Batman and his family were nothing more than rumors and myths made after the First World War, covering the depression, and helping end the second one. This was the cost of him killing a god. To lose all that time. To lose all of them. For them to lose him.

Inside he became hollow, an emptiness he couldn't compare to. Losing his parents, losing Jason, neither of these instances combined compared to what he felt now. There was nothing left for him. Nothing. Only a handful of people he knew were alive, and they were ailing because of age. None of his family was left.

He fell to his knees helplessly, just staring at the rows of graves. He couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes, dripping down his face almost like waterfalls. The heart wrenching pain within him couldn't be expressed in any other way. Listlessly he just stared at the headstones, thinking of all those he loved and lost because of his endless fight. He had realized in his time traveling he didn't have to fight alone. He never was really alone at all. Not until now.

Time slipped past him as he sat there, motionless at the gravesites. Superman kept watch over him, sorrowing in his own way. Hours seemed to pass in minutes, the night turning into day before he spoke again. "Do you want to come back to the League with me?"

The youthful knight closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself before shaking his head. "I can't. Kent I just can't."

"You need time, I know that," he whispered, his voice telling him plainly that he did understand. Lois had died in Bruce's absence as well. Lois, his parents, Jimmy, Perry, Lana, Pete… "But Wayne Manor isn't yours anymore. Bruce Wayne is dead. Been dead for over fifty years. You can't come back from the dead now, and your great grandkids aren't about to claim an unknown 'uncle' all the sudden. They don't even believe in Batman anymore. There hasn't been a Batman since Damian."

"I know that." Bruce did know that. Dick would have kept fresh flowers on his parents' graves, along with everyone else's. If he raised Damian, he too would have continued the tradition. Jason may have even visited once in a while to help. But these graves were bare of everything but grass. No one but the caretaker had visited them in years. There was some damage on his parents' headstone in particular. A Batman in that era would have to pay respects to his predecessors and motivators at the least.

"But I can't go back with you."

"Why?" The softness in the Leaguer's voice only reminded the knight how much older he was now. "Why can't you come back? There isn't a place for you here anymore."

"There isn't a place there either." He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. It wasn't easy. All his reasons for living were underground now.

"But—"

"Times change Kent," he murmured lowly, convincing himself at the same time. "Can't stop that. Things move forward whether we like it or not. I can't go back to the League. Not yet.

"I have to find my way again on my own." Completely on his own.

Pain and worry filled his friend's face. "Bruce…"

"Just tell me," he looked over his shoulder to his friend beside him, "what did you do when Lois died? How did you keep on living after that?"

Desperation filled the man's voice, making Superman's chest fill with pain. Thinking of Lois, then how much this man had suffered and lost, nothing would ever make it easier. He only had one answer.

"One day at a time."

He slipped his hand into a hidden pocket and took out a JLU communicator, passing it to his friend. "When you're ready to talk, just press the center. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

Bruce nodded, though no energy was in it. His eyes were more lost than he had ever seen them. He took the small Star Trek like com and put it in his coat pocket, not arguing like he used to. "Still saving the world."

"Kryptonians seem to age slower than humans," his friend murmured. Bruce looked back to the graves, still not ready to leave them. The alien sighed heavily, knowing the man wouldn't have left them in the first place if he had a choice. His hand returned to the hidden pockets and he took out a credit card and some cash. "Here. Use this until you can get back on your feet. Clark Kent had to die of old age about ten years ago, but his beneficiary still has some money left over."

"So now you're paying for me."

"Yeah," Superman agreed in bitter amusement. "I guess I am."

He left the items on the ground next to Bruce before floating up for take off. The world didn't know Superman still lived. Half of them believed he wasn't real anymore. He was determined to keep it that way. "I'll be around."

No response this time. The once millionaire hadn't moved an inch towards the money. Internally the alien cringed. "Take care of yourself Bruce. It's what all of them would have wanted."

"I know," was barely whispered when the hero was barely within hearing range. Tears reappeared on the lost man's face as he remembered each of these people's smiling faces. Faces he'd never see again. "Believe me, I know."

* * *

2

He had no where else to go. The manor was clearly off limits and the guest house would also be suspicious. Old hideouts were likely found in these sixty years, so they were off limits as well. There was only one place left for him right then.

The cave underneath his family home.

Bruce lit a lamp off to the side of the cave entrance leading from the graveyard. He stayed there the better part of the day and would have probably wasted away there if the grounds keeper hadn't shooed him away. Part of him was grateful to the man while the rest wanted to strangle him. He made him move again, move forward. Move on.

He didn't really want to of course, but he had no choice. Bruce wouldn't do any good if all he did was brood in front of his family's graves. They wouldn't want it that way either. His mind drifted for a moment to when he comforted Tim after his father died. He took him to an island celebrating the Day of the Dead. The young man was devastated and couldn't understand why others could act so happy when someone they loved was taken from them like that. The only answer Bruce could really give him was to live in a way that the dead would be proud of him. To keep busy.

Now he needed to follow his own advice. Bruce had to keep busy. And the best way for him to do that was to learn what the world had turned into. Then he would know if there was a place for him still in it.

Slowly he drifted through the dark caves, wondering if his boys had updated it to the times until each of their deaths and/or disappearances. The ventilation system they developed to remove the methane gas from the bat guano was still working. Crude probably, but working none the less. He could survive down there safely.

As he worked his way down the damp walkways, he looked around best he could. Wiring was attached to the walls, indicating updated electricity. Probably from the sixties or seventies. The flooring was still smooth, though sticky at the moment. He came in near the trophy displays, and saw many additions since his time there. His first and favorite ones were still in their places thankfully, making him feel a little comfort. Each of the boys had delighted in playing with them. But it was the rows of display cases that really attracted his attention, calling him over to look.

Bruce stopped before the first one then jerked his head around to see briefly what was in store for him. In each case was a costume. Their costumes. Pain consumed him once again, but he chose to bury it a moment longer so he could get an idea what his family had become before their deaths.

The first case he saw had his old uniform, sharp ears and all. He smirked at the ridiculous design back then, wondering idly where his other suits now were.

Next to it was a bluer updated version of it with the label 'Dick Grayson – The Second Batman' on the outside. His hand lingered on the glass for a moment, imagining how his eldest had looked in the costume. Honestly he was initially surprised the boy actually took the mantle. Dick stopped wanting to be Batman when he was a teenager. He only wished he was there to see it.

Bruce forced himself away to see the next one, a Batman suit sporting a trench coat instead of a cape. 'Damian Wayne – The Third Batman' was written above it. For a moment he thought of the boy he barely knew, the one he actually sired. What kind of Batman had he become? What kind of man was he? He shook his head painfully. He never really got to know his son. Never had a chance to raise him. Yet he took on the mantle, turned against his mother. He must have been an amazing child.

Reluctantly he moved on to the next case, featuring Nightwing. He smirked slightly, thinking of how he said in his will for Dick to not become Batman, that Nightwing and the others were enough. Apparently it wasn't. Only something extreme would make him put on the uniform, and usually only at Bruce's request. Back then Batman must have been sorely needed.

Again it was hard to pull away. So many memories, so many thoughts. His next pull became a stab as he saw Jason's Robin uniform. It was exactly as he left it. On the glass was a note in Dick's handwriting.

 _In honor of what he was and what he could have been._

 _And what he still is deep inside._

Bruce gave a small smile at the note. Trust in Dick to see the good in people, regardless of actions. Jason may have returned from the dead, but he never really returned to them. It was the hardest series of events they ever had to face. He only wondered how things went with him after his death.

He turned to the next one over, featuring the original Batgirl uniform. On it was simply 'Barbara's'. She always did want to keep herself separate from the others in one way or another. Like Jason's old clothes, hers were in the same condition as when he personally put them away.

Next to hers was a female Robin's uniform. 'Stephanie's' was written clear across the outside. 'Fatgirl' was an added note in unfamiliar handwriting. Must have been Damian's. Sounded rude enough. For a moment he thought of her time as Robin and again regretted it. He never really did give her a chance to prove herself. And from what Clark had said, she stayed in the game the longest after his 'death'. A real soldier.

He pulled away once more and stopped in front of a nearly all black Batgirl costume. 'Cassandra's' was above this one. Bruce's hand lingered on the one daughter he really had. He was hesitant for the longest time to officially bring her into the family, but she proved her worth and loyalty more than most. He should have been with her more, helped her more. Tim was there for her more than he was. Tim and Barbara. And yet her undying loyalty was probably why she left this uniform behind. She did exactly as he instructed her in his will. He had an idea where to start looking for her, if she was still alive.

Bruce rested his head for a moment against the glass before moving on to the next heartbreaking sight. An unknown uniform to him rested there, but the name above it was one he'd never forget. 'Red Robin – Tim Drake'.

"Red Robin is it?" He murmured quietly to himself. "Had to make your own name after Damian took your role?"

Bruce shook his head and thought about what the kid had gone through, and how he died. According to Clark, Tim had opened up the theory of him being lost in time when everyone else believed he was dead. It wasn't until after these black lantern rings came to Earth and started some kind of zombie apocalypse did anyone start believing him. Tim had searched endlessly for proof, finding little and only making enemies along the way. Bruce would have to look up the case files to get the details later, if there were any remaining. But it was the kid's journey to find him that led to his demise.

"Of course you would look for me," he continued after a moment. "Dick had Gotham and Damian to keep him busy. You lost everything. Everything."

Tears threatened to come out again, bringing on more exhaustion than he was ready for. Now he was the one who lost everything. If only they could return him to his original time! But they couldn't. He couldn't go back to the forties. It was the new millennium and he had to accept that.

With a great deal of effort, he pushed away from the very different uniform to the Robin one Tim also wore. Back when he had everything. Family, friends, love, a purpose. It was so very different when he started out than when he…

Quickly this time Bruce moved on. He stopped in front of the last Robin suit, marveling at the differences between it and the one Dick and Jason wore. This one was Damian's. Even had brass knuckles in the gloves. Slowly he shook his head, guessing Dick had his hands full raising his boy.

Finally at the end of the row he saw his last Batman suit again. The kind he wore the day he 'died'. Back then it was the peak of human ingenuity for self defense and preservation. Now, it was probably just a costume piece. Yet this one was in the best case money could have at the time. There even appeared to be lighting set up within the glass, quite the novelty in his time. A plaque laid at the base.

 _To fight against crime and corruption_

 _and never swerve from the path of justice_

A sad smile peaked out of the man's worn face. The oath. The oath he had every one of his protégés, his partners, his family, make when they started fighting at his side. Dick never forgot it. It was what he lived by. And he made sure the rest of the crime fighting community did as well.

Sitting at Batman's feet, it was clear he wanted future generations to know what Batman stood for. What he always believed in. Yet it only seemed to survive for three generations. Bruce's initial belief was right it seemed. When he died, so did Batman.

He looked back to all the uniforms, lined up neatly and preserved for future generations. No one had seen them in years. Near forty or so if Damian's headstone was any indication. His son wanted no part in this.

Bruce found his way to the prototype computer he barely installed before the war and near flopped into the chair there, sending dust in all directions. He coughed a little then just relaxed into it, thinking things over while still trying to suppress the overwhelming emotions within him.

According to Clark, Damian had married and had a single son around the time of Dick's disappearance. His son also married and had a boy. That one followed the pattern too, and his only child was in high school. It was hard for Bruce to believe once that he had a literal son, now to know he wasn't just a grandfather, but a great grandfather and a great great grandfather was near impossible! The math didn't quite add up in his head, especially since Bruce himself was still in his early forties. The Wayne name hadn't died though his legend seemed to.

He still had some family out there, though very estranged now. It wasn't much, but it was something to latch on to. Maybe after he managed to push past his overwhelming emotions again he would look up his descendants and see how they were doing. Maybe he'd spend the rest of his days making sure they were alright, while going over every clue possible to find out what happened to his missing family members. It was something. If he couldn't have his old life back, he'd have something to protect.

But right then… He cast a weary look back to the display cases, showing him once again everyone he was missing. Everyone who's lives had past without him. Heart wrenching pain filled him again, harrowing what little support he had away from him. Tears ran freely as he buried his head in his hands. The same thoughts kept filling his head as he remembered each person's face, every one of their voices.

' _I'm sorry. I didn't come back when I should have. I'm sorry. God I am so sorry._ '

Only the bats could hear his cries, and even they were silent for his sake. For he was a man outside of time, broken not from his travels, but by returning home.

* * *

3

He gave himself only a month to mourn. Any longer and he probably would have died. Bruce ventured out of the cave only a few times during that month, mostly to buy supplies or visit their graves. His shopping mostly consisted of minimal food, clothes, and cleaning supplies. The cave needed a good scrubbing and it gave him time to remember his time there and see what his family had done before their ends.

Scrubbing down nearly every area of the cave with only the bats and rats for company helped numb his thoughts and keep his hands busy. Every night he slept in the old infirmary, or whenever he ventured actually going to bed instead of collapsing on the floor. Exhaustion made mourning less daunting, and helped him ever so slightly to move forward. He needed his mind to stop going over everything when he cleaned the display cases.

Throughout that month, Bruce said little and learned little. The communicator was left forgotten on the computer, ignored for the most part. Strange little device that one. He had much to catch up on if he was to be useful anywhere. But right then all he could focus on was what he lost and what he could clean.

When the month ended, so did the scrubbing. All the displays, work areas and equipment were free of dust and grime, perfectly clean to the touch. He had decided to wait until he could update the technology to even attempt repairs on the machinery. The whole time he worked by lamplight, making it difficult to be certain if everything was perfectly clean. Seeing most of the cave still wrapped in darkness was fine by him. The dark was soothing and kept things he didn't want to be reminded of at bay.

The following months started his education anew. First thing he needed to know was what his boys had done since his 'death'. Idly Bruce had wondered if the computer was used to keep personal records like they hoped it eventually would before he retreated to the file room and immersed himself in old case files, none of them he wrote.

As he persisted to read each case, each record of their actions, Bruce fought back tears and bitter smiles. He heard Dick and Tim's voices in every one of them. He could almost imagine they were in the room with him as he read their handwriting. As always, Dick's reports were entertaining, filled with commentary and anecdotes to make it more interesting. Tim's were all about the facts, with the occasional bit of irony and sarcasm. Dick's displayed concern for others in their family, mentioning more than once that Damian and Tim wouldn't get along unless their lives, or his, depended on it. Tim's displayed his misery with how things had gone over the years, how tired he was starting to feel.

Dick's report on Tim's death brought a change in the man's future writings. It was covered in scribbles, tears and wrinkles. The hardest piece for the man to write. Barbara had to finish it. Bruce could barely make himself read it. He set it aside to look at a later date, when he thought he could handle it better.

After that point, he started seeing Damian's writing. Dick still did his reports dutifully, but he gave the new Robin, the last Robin, a chance to improve. Bruce struggled to hear his son's voice in his mind as he read it, but could only hear his own. He didn't know the boy well enough.

His reports were a snarkier version of Tim's to tell the truth. Facts filled with gruesome commentary. Damian didn't walk around how someone died or how badly someone was injured. The kid didn't seem to care about bystanders or his enemies when he started, but slowly it changed. The reports stopped being snide entirely after Dick's disappearance. Damian seemed truly crushed by it. He persisted in finishing the report to the best of his abilities, but Bruce knew the last few paragraphs were written by someone else. Maybe Damian's mysterious wife.

This report as well was set aside, on top of Tim's death and Dick's statement about Jason just leaving. The rogue bird had said goodbye to his older brother, and good luck. Dick had decided to keep it quiet since Jason was just choosing to move on. He was probably the only one who completely had.

The reports following were purely facts in the end, only to be used later should he need the information. Damian wasn't as great a detective as his predecessors Bruce learned quickly. Keeping the company running was mostly his wife's job at that. From the stray comments the man found in these, this wife was strictly for breeding and convenience to Damian. She must have felt overworked and underappreciated. No wonder she went crazy in the end. Their son, Thomas, must have had it rough.

It took weeks for Bruce to close the last file his boys wrote, finding particular cases of interest and setting them aside. He had an idea of how they changed after his death, and the deaths of others.

Dick was still how he remembered him, and responded the way he predicted, trying to hold everything together. Still overly happy and determined to do what's right. Even Tim's death didn't stop him from doing his best and being the greatest non-powered hero the world had known. Bruce couldn't help but to be proud of him.

Tim had fallen into a depression and an obsession. If he didn't have his search for Bruce to hang on to, he would have been locked away in Arkham or somewhere similar in a few more years. Apparently Tamara Fox, Lucius' girl, and Stephanie had both tried to lift his spirits for a while, and with Dick's never ending help he was slowly becoming who he once was. Had he lived past the mess his search had created with Ra's, he would have become a man more than worthy to take up the batmantle next.

Jason, from the reports, had become violent and confused for a long time before eventually coming to some epiphany. He had no reason in the end to keep fighting his family and decided to move on after Bruce's 'death'. He even had a begrudging respect for the next dynamic duo. Helped he too had a young partner for a time and now understood what Bruce had gone through with him. Leaving Gotham seemed like the best course of action for the man, giving him a chance to really start a new life once again. The old Jason and the new one seemed to have a meeting of the minds, and made a choice to change. To that, Bruce was pleased.

Damian though… Recalling his few hours he had with his son and what he learned from these reports, Bruce could only be resigned. Dick's reports told him of the struggle he had to change from an assassin to a Robin. Slowly the kid learned to follow orders and to become more humane. By the time Dick disappeared, Damian didn't kill anymore, even by accident. He could be civil with people. He even regretted trying to kill Tim so much. But he was still cold and hard to deal with. Seemed like how Bruce once was in some ways, but where he learned to thaw out into spring, Damian was in constant permafrost, never completely changing. His relationship with his wife was merely an arrangement to ensure Wayne never was short of heirs. The child he once met couldn't love, not the way most people did.

It worried Bruce to think the only one who bore his blood was the only one he couldn't be proud of in the end. Maybe if he had returned to his time instead of far past it, things would have been different. Very different. Batman would have prevented Tim's death. Dick would have been found within a year. Damian might have had a fuller life, a real life. The only one of his boys who benefited from his 'death' really, was Jason. Everyone else suffered, some became stronger while others fell further

* * *

 **And That's where I stopped**

Maybe that's what I should have titled this series of shorts...

Anyway, this one... Well... it was more like a book series than a single fic. Basically when Bruce pulls a Captain America on us (you know they defrost him every time they want to reboot his story) and subtly comes back into the world as Batman. He takes the name... Calvin Drapper I believe. Anyway, he turns himself into a history prof at the local university and meets his kids descendants. Tim actually faked his death and had a real life on the other side of the country. Jason settles down in Gotham and takes care of Dick's offspring. Dick "disappears" (whole epic story involving that later). And the girls establish a new order on their own (the Birds of Prey still exist). Oh and Damian eventually took over as Batman, but was such a jerk that he and his descendants keep getting assassinated. The last Wayne, Grayson/Todd (they intermarried eventually), and Drake, find their way to him and somewhat start a new batfam. There's so many details, I'd have to tell them to the person who wants to continue this idea.

Funny, I thought I stopped this one after chapter 1. wow... Anyway, this one is a huge duzy of a story. The OCs are major characters and I have one of them on my DA page. Up for grabs! Whoever wants it though better be ready to go all out on it.


	6. Avenging Bats

Original idea: Quasy 52/pre52 Batfam, post dami's death, meets Avengers. Just an idea a lot of people have, but rarely do a good job on.

* * *

 **Avenging Bats**

1

Tony did not want to be there. Yes, it was a party. Yes, it was for a good cause. Yes, there were expensive toys everywhere. Yes, there were hot, available women in the crowd. Yes, booze was available. All of that was what kept him there (plus Pepper insisted). There were just a few, tiny things he didn't like that was there.

One, he was in Gotham. The place sucked.

Two, Captain Boy Scout of America was making him come.

And three, Wayne was there.

"And why is that so repulsive?" Pepper Pots hung on his arm, dragging him up the steps to Gotham Kane Art Museum to make nice with potential business partners and look good for the camera. Cap-sicle had Natasha on his arm, bringing up the rear to make sure he didn't rabbit on them. Right then Tony envied Bruce Banner's excuse to stay out of the limelight, and the party scene, which was saying a lot at that moment. His girlfriend was less than amused at his reluctance. "Bruce Wayne's a well-respected business man whose company specializes in _defensive_ military contracts, not guns or missiles. Then there's their medical division, their aerospace division, and their computer sciences. He's all about helping people."

"Wayne's an entitled, know-it-all brat." The genius internally groaned as they passed through the doors, not looking forward to any of it. "Has been since boarding school. And he was only there for like two years! And the next time we met, he had every other girl's number! Little rat bas-"

"There are other people here Tony," his best girl reminded him. "Important people who want to thank you guys for saving the world."

"Hm. Fun."

"Possible investors and partners too."

"If they want business, they can talk to you. Back home. In your office."

"Or we can make nice with people here and see where that goes later."

"I thought you liked parties," Steve pointed out, smirking to himself. He didn't like them either, but this was for a good cause. The money donated tonight would go to the families and businesses that were damaged in the Battle of New York. The Wayne Foundation was heading it and he had only heard good things about that organization: all above board, no questionable ties, and they specialized in helping victims of crimes, particularly orphans. If it weren't for all the good that was going to happen by them coming (Wayne promised to match the overall donations if the Avengers appeared) he wouldn't have come. If only they could have the charity happen without the party. "You sure have a reputation of being a party boy."

"That was before I got serious. Ooo! Tequila!" Without a second thought, Tony grabbed a shot off of a tray and took a swig. There was no way he was taking this sober. As soon as champagne crossed his path, he took two and handed one to Pepper. "And the bubbly for the lovely lady."

"Why thank you." Pepper smiled sweetly as she took it. "You still have to say hi to Mr. Wayne."

"No I don't."

"He's right over there." She pointed to one spotlighted area of the room. Two charming young men, one of them clearly underage, followed a tall and muscular one, each wearing tailored made suits of similar style. All three had black hair of varying shades and different intensities of blue for eyes. They even had different body types: big and buff, tall and lean, small and spry. It was only because they held themselves in a similar manner and dressed alike that anyone could tell they were together.

Well, that and the mishmash family was on the brochure. Same difference.

"So he is." Tony cringed at the sight, knowing the whole arrangement had to be for show. That first adoption made a notorious playboy look like a saint, and so did his second one (who sadly 'died'. He wasn't convinced it wasn't a set up out of convenience. Sneaky bastard was probably sick of the street punk). The third one, well, that was clearly a business arrangement, everyone knew it. There were rumors of a fourth, apparently female one, but he never saw her. The real kicker was when Wayne acknowledged a bastard son to the public. Speaking of which, "Where's the kid?"

"You can't expect him to bring an eleven year old a party like this, can you?"

"Frankly I don't think a teenager should be here either," Steve piped in, shaking his head at all the alcohol. "Either way, we really need to introduce ourselves."

"You can introduce yourselves all you want," the millionaire insisted. "I'm going to liberate some more tequila."

"No," Pepper insisted, pinching his arm. "You're going to go over there, play nice for the press, guarantee a check, _then_ you can make a fool of yourself. But just yourself."

"How about we just skip to the last part and go home? Hm?" He really did not want to talk to Wayne. Last time they met, the man nearly crushed his hand! Guy sure could hold onto a grudge.

"Tony-"

"It's going to happen anyway."

"Why don't you like Bruce Wayne anyway?" Natasha asked what was in all their minds. Why all the resistance? It was rather odd, especially for him.

Looking away, he told them in the simplest way possible. "We went to the same boarding school for a few years. We were not friends. And he's holding a grudge for some pretty childish pranks."

"Are we talking dye in his shampoo or replacing his shaving cream with cheese aerosol?"

Nearly all of them jumped at the new person's voice, shocked and amazed that someone had caught them off guard at all, let alone by this guy. They all knew who he was, and mere minutes ago he was under a spotlight; Richard Grayson-Wayne was giving them a hundred watt smile as he watched their faces. "'Cause I've done both and then some. Never got anything worse than washing every vehicle he owns as retaliation. Course he did prank me back a time or two."

"Really!" Steve couldn't help but smile back at this cheerful young man, ready and eager to meet them.

"Yep!"

"Sounds like the two of you had some fun together."

"Oh I bet," Tony mumbled in a small voice. Pepper gave him a sharp jab in the ribs along with a quick glare. He'd be paying for that later.

"Sure do!" Dick admitted, nearly glowing. "Course our pranks aren't near as bad as what Tim rolls out. Man that kid can be vicious."

"Say any more and I'll show Babs some of those pictures I took." They almost leapt as high as when Dick interrupted them. This new comer was the younger 'Wayne kid', Timothy Drake-Wayne. He had taken an active role in the company shortly after dropping out of high school, but the teen took enough tests to earn his GED and an associate's degree, proving he was a responsible young man. The age and wisdom in his eyes gained him respect quite quickly.

Tony had a feeling he may like this kid. Steve already liked Dick. Too bad Daddy Warbucks was an ass.

The older boy eyed the teen with some misgivings. "Which pictures are you talking about?"

"You know the ones," Tim teased, smirking a bit.

His brother glared a bit. "Refresh my memory stalker boy."

"June 7th. Metropolis."

Dick seemed to think about it for a moment before his eyes grew wide and a blush came to his face. "Thanks for the memories."

"Not a problem." He turned politely to the foursome and smiled pleasantly, offering his hand. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. I'm Tim Wayne, and this is my brother, Dick Grayson."

"Don't let the name fool you," Dick joked as he took Steve's hand for a good shake. Tony took Tim's and then Pepper. Natasha had the older boy's hand second, and he lingered flirtatiously. "I'm actually a pretty decent guy."

"I bet," the superspy answered, automatically flirting back.

"And who may you be, lovely lady?" They could hear Tim sigh in frustration as he finished handshakes around the circle without him. "An angel sent from above?"

"Natasha Romanov. Information specialist."

"Really!" Dick grinned at the wording, then started to tease. "So you're a master at interrogation?"

"Something like that."

"Maybe you'd like to interrogate me later."

"Anyway!" Tim returned the conversation to more important matters, exchanging looks between himself and his brother. One could almost hear the younger telling him to knock it off, while the other called him a killjoy. "It's really nice to meet you Ms. Romanov. You're the only one we didn't know by name. You're of course Steve Rogers," the teen started, looking over to the man with a smile. "The famous Captain America."

"Why yes I am." Steve kind of liked the other kid too. He seemed focused and honest, though he did seem to have a dark side.

The teen smiled a bit more honestly as he spoke next. "My dad used to tell me stories of you from World War II. He really would have liked to meet you."

"And who is this lovely lady being neglected Mr. Stark?" It was a clear joke, but it still hurt a bit when Dick passed him by for Pepper.

"Pepper Pots," she answered as she gave the young man her hand. "Acting CEO of Stark Industries."

"Oh! The brilliant mind of the company's business ventures!" This time he wasn't flirting as he continued to talk. "Have you met Lucius Fox? I think you two would get along really well."

"Not yet," she noted, smirking slightly, "but I plan on it. Is he really the one behind all of this?"

"Bruce is a pretty face and can do some of the work," Dick admitted, with Tim backing him up with nods, "but we'd be sunk without Lucius. He makes the dreams possible. Timbo here's been learning all he can from the man, so that when both of them retire, he can do the work and I can be the face."

"And a scary face at that," Tim teased, clearly not liking the nickname. Everyone choked on a laugh while the man faked offence.

"Why Timmy! How can you say such a thing! I have a perfectly lovely face! Isn't that right ladies?"

"Better than this lug," Pepper joked, nodding her head towards her boyfriend before taking a sip of her drink. Natasha nodded while Steve laughed a little.

"Hey!" They all laughed a little at his expense, only stopped when he pouted with some wit. "I think my face is very pretty. People even base their looks off mine."

"And if you dyed your hair bright green and wore a tutu they'd love you?" The jabbing joke from Steve nearly made Pepper spray out her drink. That was quite an image. Where did the Captain get it?

"That'd be a laugh," Tim stated, keeping his composure. He offered his hand once more to Tony, smiling politely. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Stark. I've wanted to ask you a few questions about energy distribution in your armor."

"Oh it's a trade secret," Tony insisted, though a little impressed by the question. "Next time you're in New York unsupervised, I'll show you the finer points."

"That won't be happening for a while." This voice interrupted him from starting their tech talk, and had an authoritative ring to it, demanding everyone's attention. Bruce Wayne himself joined them, a polite yet firm look upon the group, particularly Tim and Tony. "Not after last time."

"Last time?" Dick looked over to his brother who cringed at a memory. Everyone else was completely lost. "Did I miss something?"

"My apartment there blew up." The Avengers there's eyes grew as the Waynes became exasperated.

"And you didn't tell me?" Dick sighed heavily, almost comically, before propping his fists on his hips. "What were you doing this time? Cooking or trying to find the cure for cancer?"

"Failed assassination attempt with a stinger missile."

"So cooking."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Which is why you're not going anywhere for a while." Bruce folded his arms, glaring slightly at the two. "You need to take the threats on your life seriously. Both of you."

In perfect unison, his boys gave him an identical look, which onlookers could only interpret as annoyance. The oldest spoke up first. "You're one to talk. Am I in lockdown too?"

"Debating it." His answer made the two roll their eyes as he turned towards their honored guests. He offered a hand first to Pepper. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you Miss Pots. I've only read good things about you."

"The same can be said about you and Wayne Enterprises." She smiled pleasantly at him, impressed at how polite he was being. Tong though wasn't, giving a grim smile between the two of them before downing his drink. "Though I can't say the same for your social life."

"Well not everyone is as fortunate to have a constant companion like Anthony here." A similar grim smile went on the richer man's face as he offered his hand to the man in question. "You're a lucky man Stark."

"Hm. Don't I know it." Ignoring the stretched out hand and grabbed another glass, exchanging it with the empty glass. Five minutes in and he was on his third drink. "Nice to see you too Brucie."

Wayne seemed to brush off the dismissal with a small grimace and turning towards Natasha, keeping his cool while those around them gave confused or reproving looks between the two men. "And you would be the mystery woman of the Avengers. Should I ask for your name or will it take away from your allure?"

"Bruce..." Dick gave the man a small whine, making everyone wonder how old he really was.

* * *

 **And that's where I stopped**

Honestly it was fun for a bit, but I lost interest for one reason or another. Can't remember. Anyway, to give away the plot, Red Hood falls in the middle of the party with bullet holes while Tim is out trying to find Steph, his date. They get kidnapped by... Crap, can't remember their names at the moment. the beehive guys in the Marvel universe! they're using steph as leverage to get Tim to use his intellect to help them beat the League. That doesn't turn out so well for them but they do manage to keep Tim with them for a good long time. Shield wants to keep Jason in their custody, but Bruce intervenes on his behalf, saying Hood's saved his family a time or two. The Waynes are under house arrest until they sort out Jason and get Tim back, which makes Tony grin a bit and Cap worried. Dick keeps trying to sneak out to be nightwing and Bruce and Alfred do everything they can to keep the out of the cave. Tony ends up helping Dick sneak out, and he gets Roy and Kory to save Jason before getting their help to find Tim and steph. Cap ends up figuring everything out and saves Bats' ID from Shield (Civil war anyone?). Tony realizes he was a bully to Bruce in boarding school and apologizes. Everyone goes home happy.

Yeah, didn't think it all the way through. AIM! That was the name I was forgetting. So this guy's up for grabs, but please please please! Try to get the characters right and the writing good. I've seen too many good concepts spoiled by bad performance. 3X


	7. Children Again

Original Idea: I wanted to de-age everyone, and give them an option at the end. After all, they all have had some pretty crapy lives. Warning: Jason has a potty mouth.

* * *

 **Children Again**

1

Batman raced across the rooftops, praying he'd make it there in time. Faust sore up and down the river Sixt he'd destroy everything he held dear. He swore he'd take away his pride and joy, his sun and moon. The only lights in his life.

The mad magician was partway through the spell he was working on when his fist clashed with teeth, causing the spell in question to go wrong. Thankfully he had Zatanna for backup. She managed to alter the spell before it could do any damage to any of them, but once she was done, she collapsed on the ground, mumbling over and over again. Batman was too busy tying Faust up to hear what she had to say for a while. When he made it to her side, he finally made out the words.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Bruce. I couldn't… I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."

Quickly he had gripped her shoulders, trying to snap her out of it. He was certain they averted the deathly spell, hadn't they? "Zatanna, what happened?"

She gave him a weak look, one begging for forgiveness. She wanted so much to make him happy, but now she felt she made him miserable. "I'm sorry. I couldn't save them."

That was all she had to say to send fear into his soul. He remembered Faust's cryptic wording. Them. Instantly he was on his feet, dropping an emergency beacon to the JLI at Zatanna's feet before running out of the misused magic shop and sending a grapple to the neighboring rooftop. Finding his car would take too long and he knew if he tried sitting down then he'd likely not get back up.

One hand went to the side of his cowl, pressing hard on his personal communicator. "Oracle! Role call!"

"Nice to hear you too Bruce," came Barbara's quick remark. He heard her typing on the other end. "The birds are in Quantico, just so you know. Special mission. Black Bat's still in Hong Kong. Batgirl's doing undercover work at a strip bar –she's demanding therapy after this one. Big and Little D are over at the East Side Pier tracking down the drug cartel there. And last I heard Red Robin's staying in to catch up on some homework. Batwoman's not reporting to me and Flamebird's still retired."

"Have everyone call in," Batman ordered, heading towards the pier as fast as his legs could carry him. "Trace their signals. Find out where everyone is right this moment! And check on Jim, Alfred and Leslie."

"Wha… Bruce what's going on?" Confusion and some amount of panic entered the hacker's voice.

"Faust cast a spell," he explained as he topped another building. "Zatanna made it go awry after I punched him. He's after people important to me. My 'lights'."

"Oh crap. Robins." The dread in her voice made it clear she put everything together. They may not always believe in magic, but they didn't doubt the intent behind spells when they were used by maniacs. Barbara's hurried typing was even more than he expected. "Robin and Dick's still at the pier, but Tim's with them. They're not answering their coms. I'll keep working on Steph. Your ETA?"

"Ten minutes." If anything, his pace quickened. When he heard Faust's words and 'them', he thought of everyone, not just his Robins. Barbara, Cassandra, Helena, even the Kanes were important to him. Selina had a magical cat amulet to protect her, so there was nothing to worry him about her and magic. Jim and Alfred, if he didn't have them in the beginning, no Robin would have worked with him. Hell, even he wouldn't work with himself! And Leslie, his near mother figure, he couldn't bare to lose her too.

But most devastating would be losing his sons.

Five minutes passed before Barbara confirmed his latest fears. "Steph's fine. Nearly broke a groper's hand though. Boys still aren't responding. Dinah's reported in on their situation, and though it's nasty, no magic's going on around them. Dad's good too and Alfred's prepping medical with Leslie in the cave. Apparently they were having tea."

"Cassandra?"

"Working on it. China's usually out of my comfort zone." He heard more typing, giving him time to think about what Dick and Damian were working on. It was going to be their last mission together before his eldest returned to being Nightwing. Talia's latest stunt made the two running around alone too dangerous in Bruce's eyes. He was not losing any of his sons again.

Why would they call in Tim for a drug bust? The two youngest still didn't get along, but behaved for Dick and Bruce's sakes when they were around. But for Tim to go out into Gotham when he was trying to get back into school routines was odd. Something more must have happened for Dick to call him in.

He pushed the thought aside as he topped another building, getting warmer as he reached his goal.

"Cass is fine," Barbara reported at last. "Bit groggy 'cause I woke her, but fine all the same. Kanes are busy at a dinner. Still no word on the boys."

"How close am I to their location?" He made it to the pier, but the rows upon rows of abandoned warehouses unnerved him. Which one were they in?

"Not far." Oracle kept her voice level, but he knew she was worried. Tim was like a kid brother to her, and Damian the annoying one she rather ignore and let another take care of. Dick though, he was special to her. Everyone knew it. She still had the ring after all, and he always came when she called. Him not responding to her was the same as… well, any of them not responding to Bruce. It just didn't happen unless something bad had occurred. "Two buildings south, one west, second floor, third window in."

"Security?"

"None I can find. Really low tech there." She continued to type on the other end. "Four heat signatures in the room, none else in the building. So three KOs and a watchdog?"

"Bane?" All the crazies were accounted for just two hours ago. It'd take six for even Joker to lay a good trap for his boys.

"Still in Santa Prisca." There was a pause on the other end. "Um, none of them are moving. Not even a little."

"Doesn't matter," Batman was nearly there. He saw the window and launched a grapple to guide him through while finally signaling for the car to arrive. Three knockouts, he was going to need it. "Make sure the JLI gets their prisoner and Zatanna. I'll have questions later."

"Roger."

Without another thought, Batman swung down into the room in question, falling into a roll to protect himself from the shattering glass and wood around him. In seconds he was on his feet, ready to knock down whatever watchdog was waiting for him.

But there wasn't one. True there were four people there, but all were laying on the ground. All were in costume.

And all of them had shrunk.

Batman eased out of his fighting stance as he looked about the room, not certain if he should believe his eyes. That is, until he heard wailing from a bundle of clothes to the side of him. That's when it really hit him, that this really happened.

On the ground surrounding the dark knight were all four of his boys, and once again they were boys. A young teenager laid in an oversized Batman uniform, head almost face down on the floor, his body spread eagle. Possibly a ten year old slumped against the far wall, his red helmet and biker jacket barely staying on his body. The elementary school boy was on his side, almost cowering in the Red Robin cowl. All three were unconscious, completely unaware of the baby's wails in the Robin uniform.

Batman took careful strides over to the bundle on the ground, shaking off all the remaining glass and wood fragments off his person before kneeling down next to it. Carefully he lifted parts of the cloth surrounding the babe within, trying to find its face. Within minutes he uncovered the crying infant, probably no older than six months. He stared down at the baby boy in front of him, not entirely sure what to do.

"Damian?"

* * *

2

After all the kidnappings and children recoveries Batman's done during his career, he found it prudent to have a car seat in the batmobiles. Others may laugh, but it never hurt to be prepared. Right then he wished he had two.

Baby Damian wouldn't stop crying, and the other three wouldn't wake up. When Dick, Tim and… Jason… learned to sleep like lumps he'd never know. All were fairly light sleepers last he knew, but not a single one stirred when he picked them up and buckled them into the car. Frankly he wasn't comfortable with having a tiny six year old outside of a booster seat at the least, but he had no choice. It was this or have Tim sitting on his lap in his oversized costume.

And frankly that wasn't going to happen.

"They're kids?" Oracle asked on the other end, completely baffled.

Batman nodded, securing Dick in shotgun before lodging himself behind the wheel. "Apparently. Get Zee to find out what happened. Once they're secure, I'll talk to her myself."

"Think you've got enough diapers in the manor Bruce?"

The man took a deep breath. He hadn't yet thought about the immediate consequences. All he was thinking about at the moment was how to get these four out of harms way. Besides being kids, they were all in body armor too big for them. Damian was a baby. Tim was six, maybe seven. Jason looked half starved, like when he first appeared before him. And Dick, well he simply was out cold. Even at thirteen-fourteen the kid could do a lot of damage. Getting them to safety was his first priority.

Diapers and kid sized clothes were next.

"Tell Leslie to pick some up. None of them look injured. I don't have any children's clothes that'll fit half of them either."

"Oh, so the man prepared for a zombie apocalypse has nothing for a toddler does he?" Bruce scowled mentally at the woman on the other end. It was Dick who insisted they be prepared for one, especially after that Black Lantern fiasco when he was trapped going through time.

"Fine, I'll call her."

"No need Bruce," a pleasant elderly woman's voice stated calmly. "I've heard everything. Are they really alright?"

"They've been deaged," Bruce reminded them. "By ten years if I know right. We're lucky Damian didn't turn into an embryo."

"No injuries?" Leslie repeated.

"None I can see. You can examine them when they get back. But I really don't think Alfred wants to clean excrement from Robin's uniform." He gave his one biological son a cautious look. Damian just kept on crying, oblivious to everyone else around him. And the others were giving him the same treatment.

"Sir," Alfred joined in, "can you give a rough estimate of how old the younger two are?"

"Does it make that big a difference?" The dark knight spared the wheel a hand to rub his oncoming headache. He was recovering from his earlier panic of the boys being in danger and the kid just kept on crying! Why couldn't he be dead asleep like his brothers?

He stopped at this thought, having to remind himself that they weren't really brothers. In name, yes, he adopted each of them. But in blood, none were related. Maybe that made a difference this time around. Damian was his literal son, so the spell must have done something more to him. Faust had that sick of a mind.

But he loved each of them as his own flesh and blood. Yes Jason had gone down a dark path, but Bruce wasn't there for him when he came back from the dead. If he was, he would have done everything in his power to help him regain his life. Dick and Tim were very dear to him too, both preserving his sanity during his darkest hours. He trusted the two of them with everything, their brothers most of all.

But right then and there, he had three highly trained combatants who were out cold and one who was forced into an infant body. Who knew what effect it had on their minds. He took a deep breath as he heard Alfred give a soft chuckle.

"Indeed it does sir."

He took another breath before answering. "Tim looks like he's six. Barely past three feet. Damian's about thirty pounds, sixteen inches, possibly six months, maybe less."

"And the other two?" Leslie asked quickly.

He sighed. "Dick looks like he's thirteen, maybe fourteen. And… Jason's about ten. Damian's clothes should fit them both. They're about the same sizes."

"Master Jason was with them?" Alfred's voice had some strangled hope in it, worrying Bruce.

"Yes, he was." He glanced at the mirror to Jason behind him. The helmet was difficult to take off, but necessary. For once since his return to their lives, the boy seemed at peace. He slept as if nothing else mattered in this world. Being there, was natural, normal. Right.

"I'll find out why when they wake up," he said at last. He only prayed their mental states didn't match their physical.

"Understood," Alfred finished, though there was still some endearment in this voice. "I will prepare their rooms without—"

"Put them in the same room," Bruce finished.

"Sir?"

"We'll know when they wake up," he explained quickly. "And the hunt for them will end faster if they're together. Set up a temporary crib for Damian too. We'll keep him away from them for the moment." The baby really needed to sleep. Bruce's headache was only getting worse. Oh he only prayed this wasn't permanent.

Once in the cave, Batman let go of the wheel and pulled off the cowl to rub his eyes tiredly. His headache wasn't going away. Damian kept crying loudly. It was amazing the kid who usually spoke in undertones around him had such strong vocal cords. Well, he was healthy at the least. A healthy crying baby who should have been ten.

He glanced back to the others. Not a single one of his first three Robins stirred the entire way home. Jason was drooling, leaning against the car seat next to him. Dick's head rested on the window, his mouth going on without a sound. Tim looked like he was sitting in a meeting chair and couldn't wake up. If the belt wasn't there, he surely would have topped out of his seat. Bruce propped Dick away from the glass before sighing heavily and forcing the sliding top forward so they could exit.

Within seconds of opening he was blinded by a flash. Bruce winced then glared over to Alfred and his offending camera. The amused smirk on the old butler's face did not go unnoticed. "For my private collection sir."

Bruce just huffed out in frustration before getting out of the car to start extracting his boys. Alfred would be enjoying this. They didn't have a single photograph of Tim or Jason growing up before they became Robin. And it was a belief among them there were no baby pictures of Damian, period. Clark told him once that grandparents liked to take pictures of their kids and grandkids interacting. His mother had apparently taken quite a few when Conner was temporarily deaged and Chris was around. Alfred was as close to a grandfather to them as anyone could get.

To amuse his greatest ally and father figure, Bruce let Alfred take a snapshot of each of the boys in the car before taking them out, one at a time. As he did so, he striped each of them to their shirts and shorts, if they would stay on.

Dick was much lighter once the cape was off and automatically his arms wrapped around Bruce's neck for extra security as he was taken to one of the medical beds. There was a snapshot taken before he walked three steps and another taken at his back after ten.

Tim was next and one of his hands grabbed his shirt as he snuggled into Bruce's arms. Only one flash took place for the two of them as the boy was being cradled rather than hugged while being carried.

Jason came third and his arms were limp at his sides as Bruce half cradled him, half hugged him to handle his size. Though his arms did nothing, the boy's head nuzzled deeply into his shoulder, his mouth still hanging open. Three snapshots were taken.

With the big ones on medical beds, Bruce finally gained the courage to take the still crying infant from this car seat. The buckles of this one were specially designed so he could easily work them, but the bundle still wrapped in his cloak kept squirming and crying, making everything difficult. He tried not to growl as Alfred took picture after picture of him taking Damian out of the infernal contraption. As revenge, Bruce flung Robin's tunic at his butler before cradling his son in his arms and rocking him. Still the babe cried, but not as loudly. A tiny fist grabbed his shirt as tight as he could, making the father even more worried about what was really going on in this babe's mind.

Another photo was taken before he managed a glare in Alfred's general direction. "Please stop that. I have a bad enough headache already."

"Ah," the butler noted with some amusement, "the great Batman can take on psychotic villains, super powered aliens, and bone crushing, blood spilling attacks with ease, but when faced with one wailing child, he complains about a headache. Dually noted sir."

Thankfully the old man put his camera in his pocket, amusement still alight on his face. As Bruce paced the cave, bouncing the babe a bit in hopes of calming his cries, Alfred picked up each spare article of clothing and protection. His eye remained on his charge and the baby, trying hard to conceal his mirth and joy at the sight. Despite being the Batman, the most feared of the Justice League and superhero community in general, he always had a soft spot for children. Why else would he have taken in an eight year old Dick Grayson all those years ago?

The man's instincts as a father came out daily since that boy had entered their lives. Yes, Bruce had failed as a father many times, but he always learned from his mistakes and tried to make up for it. Sometimes he learned his lesson for the next one's sake, and other times he managed to fix what was done to the boy in question instead. But right then he was dealing with something he never had to do before: care for his own infant.

Alfred shook his head in good humor as he carried the Batman and Robin uniforms towards the caves private laundry area. Each of the Robins was old enough to walk and talk before they met Bruce. They were all potty trained, knew how to read and write, they even dressed themselves. Only when Richard was being particularly difficult did they ever have to baby him. He remembered very well when Bruce tried to bathe him once. It turned into a near death by soap battle between the two. Didn't help the boy was still recovering from Scarecrow's gas and had a cold. Actually, that was the only reason Bruce ever bathed him, if he couldn't really do it himself.

"Alfred." Bruce's voice was nearly a panicked whine. Damian still wasn't quieting down. As the butler looked back to them, carrying the second load of Red Robin and Red Hood's uniforms, he noted the desperate pleading look in the man's face. He was truly at a loss of what to do.

"Try singing to him," the butler suggested, keeping his voice level. It was just too amusing.

"Sing?"

"Children love to hear their parents' voices," Alfred reminded him as he tucked the last uniform away for cleaning and repair later. "It calms them in most cases and as I recall, you have quite a good singing voice."

Still coddling his son, Bruce ran the options through his head. He looked back and forth between the butler and the babe before answering. "Sing what? I don't—"

"Your father used to sing 'Ba Ba Black Sheep'," He said quietly. "And I believe your mother favored 'Hush Little Baby'. I sang 'Lil' Jackie Rabbit' among others. What matters more is the tone of your voice rather than what is said. Keep it calm and soothing and you'll do fine."

Bruce stared wide eyed at the man for a moment before going back to pacing the floor and rubbing the baby's back. Before Alfred could give an exasperated sigh, he heard the delicate notes to 'Ba Ba Black Sheep' coming from the detective's mouth. The older man smiled a bit before going back to the three others to check on their physical condition.

Truth be told, other than the three lads being unconscious and ten years younger than they should be, they were relatively unharmed. Relatively because old bruises and cuts from the past two weeks were still there. Thankfully Timothy and Richard had let their bones heal properly since their last breaking. The worst damage to either of them at the moment was the elder's knuckles from when he punched a wall on accident the previous night. Jason though, now under examination, had sprained his left ankle recently, cracked a few ribs, and had a gash down one arm, healing a little. And he looked like he missed far too many meals. Just what was this boy doing besides scaring the street punks of Gotham away from school yards and shooting those who annoyed him?

Thinking on that, Alfred sought out the guns the young man normally used. They weren't with the clothes Batman had stripped off of them, so they were either in the car or at the crime scene. Quickly he checked the car and found both of them, plus each of the boy's utility belts tucked into the trunk. The butler gave a sigh of relief before gathering all the tools of their trades to put them away. The offending weapons would be placed in a secure safe deeper in the cave, a location only he knew about for the safety of his boys.

It was after the firearms were well out of harms way when he realized there was silence in the cave once again. He looked up toward the computer and found Bruce still holding Damian to his chest, singing softly and rubbing the boy's back, but the babe was no longer screaming loudly. All he did now was cling to his father, eyes wet and staring off into space. Bruce sat in his chair, rocking back and forth in time with his song. His eyes were on the medical beds not too far off, fighting off the worry and fear he truly felt in this situation.

For once, all four boys were peacefully coexisting in their home. It wouldn't last long considering their natures, but they weren't trying to kill each other either. Three were asleep and one was an infant. All because of a spell. A spell that only hit them because the magician wanted to get back at Batman. The three weren't waking. Damian was an infant. An infant! This wasn't right. Despite the peace between them all at the moment, this wasn't right. Two of them should be adults. Another nearing adulthood eagerly. The last… the only reason Damian normally clung to Bruce was if his life was in danger. He clung to Dick if it was a nightmare. And yet here he was, a babe clinging to his father for unknown reasons.

He heard another picture being taken. Bruce sighed heavily then continued singing to keep his boy quiet. It was just one of those nights.

* * *

3

When Leslie returned with the shopping, Bruce was given a crash course lesson in diapers. Both Alfred and she refused to change Damian on a matter of principle, and because they enjoyed seeing Bruce squirm when given a task most men his age manage with ease.

Damian fussed and almost started wailing again when he was put down, but once in a fresh diaper and in black footie pajamas, he quieted down for a while. Bruce cradled him to his chest again, wrapping him in a soft gray blanket to give him extra warmth. Leslie gave the two a warm bottle and pacifier in case the babe started crying again before joining Alfred in redressing the other three.

Both Dick and Jason were forced into Damian's spare pajamas, one blue and the other red. Tim's new green pjs were a bit big on him but kept him warm all the same. None of them protested in their sleep and each seemed to settle better once fully clothed again.

Then came their next problem. Neither Leslie nor Alfred had the strength necessary to carry the three to their temporary shared room prepared for them. Maybe Tim, but certainly not Dick or Jason. Damian did not seem keen on letting go of his father quite yet either. They all exchanged looks before sighing heavily. Leslie gently took Damian away from his parent and tried feeding him as Bruce slid his arms under Dick's body to take him upstairs. By the time he was in the service elevator, the babe was already crying and resisting the woman's touch.

Bruce relished the moment of quiet as he carried the fourteen year old in his arms towards the bedroom in question. Vaguely he recalled doing this before with him. Dick sometimes fell asleep in the car after patrol. Some nights were harder than others so Bruce rarely found a fault in letting the boy sleep as long as possible.

Once he made it to the temporary 'boys room', he nudged open the door and took a quick look around. One very large bed near the center of the back wall, a few other pieces of furniture and a TV were all featured there. It was a family guest room, rarely used. The last time it was used was when Dick had Wally's family over one night. Bruce wasn't there to see it happen, but the depletion of food in the house was proof enough to what occured.

Carefully he placed Dick in the center of the bed. The young teen's mouth moved a bit in protest, but he didn't wake and he didn't say a word. Bruce watched him a moment, remembering all those nights he peaked into Dick's room as he grew up and just watched him sleep. Peace always flooded him during those nights, and a reassurance came to him, telling him he did right in taking the boy in.

He placed a hand on the boy's head for a moment and watched the knee jerk reaction on his face. A soft smile. Seeing that gentle smile on Dick's young face warmed him again and again, letting his own lips turn upward slightly. Very little compared to seeing that smile on his face. Only a few other things did, and he hoped to see them all again shortly.

Thinking twice before returning to the cave, Bruce slipped into his own room to change into pajamas and slippers. It was likely he wouldn't have another chance to change in a while so he took it. As he returned to the service elevator, he hefted his uniform in his arms, ready to exchange them for the next little boy he'd be putting to bed.

As predicted, nothing Leslie or Alfred could do would calm Damian's wails. Bruce witnessed the two trying to force the pacifier into his mouth, only for the babe to spit it back out within moments. His father tried to ignore what was happening and set his clothes on the empty medical bed before reaching for Jason. This time when he held the boy, he unconsciously cuddled up to him. Bruce had eyes only for his prodigal son as he entered the elevator once more.

He kept his gaze on Jason's face as he walked through the manor to that room once more. In his mind he kept playing over and over again the horrible event that clouded his judgments so well over the next year or so after it. Jason's death nearly killed him inside. He loved the boy so much, wanted to protect him and raise him well, and failed miserably. Even Dick's old cheerfulness and reason couldn't break him away from the darkness that came with this Robin's death. It still plagued him. It forever would.

When he first saw Jason again, he believed it was a trick. The second time, when he had evidence to back up his claims as Robin, he was too shocked to do much about it. The years after and all the battles between them tore at his heart. He left a message in his will for him, hoping to help him somehow should he die before he could save his son, but even that seemed to fail.

How many times was he going to fail his second child?

As he moved to set Jason on the right side of Dick, he felt reluctant to let go of him again. For a moment, Bruce sat on the edge of the bed and held Jason tightly, closing his eyes in fear tears would come out. He did not want to lose Jason again. He didn't want to lose him the first time. Killing Joker wouldn't bring his boy back. Even if he killed him now, Jason wouldn't come back to him. The only way for this boy to return to him, to truly come home, was if he let go of all the anger and bitterness he held on to and returned on his own. There was little Bruce could do besides wait for him with open arms.

Course Jason would have to face the consequence of his actions as well. Bruce couldn't back down on his principles after all. One thing he really didn't want to be was a hypocrite. If only there was a way for them to wipe the slate clean completely.

Reluctantly Bruce loosened his hold on his wayward son and gently placed him down on the bed. Up until then he showed no emotion on his face, but as Bruce started to rise from the mattress, Jason made a small whimper. Quickly Bruce returned to him, placing on hand on his head and another besides him in case he had to do more. His reward for the response was the lad moving into his touch and a smile coming to his face. It wasn't the sleepy gentle one Dick wore earlier, but a truly happy one telling him he could laugh for the sake of laughing right then.

Bruce smiled once more, pleased beyond all hope. This was Jason's smile, the one he wore those nights when he was put to bed as Robin. Impulsive, quick to act, rarely thought of the consequences, it was what made Jason so endearing and frustrating at the same time. That honest to goodness smile he wore to bed back then, and right at that moment, was entirely his. No one else could smile like that, and no one else would.

Leaving the room this time was harder than before, but there was still one more bird to put to bed before he returned to his most demanding son. Damian continued to wail in the cave, screaming at the top of his lungs. Honestly it was a miracle Tim was still out cold. Any other six year old would have woken up and started crying if their baby brother was screaming like that. What was it that made all three of them sleep through everything?

Like before, Tim turned into Bruce's hold on him eagerly as he slept. Tight fists kept strong grips on his robe, reminding the man how firm this boy was. Tim wouldn't back down when he told Bruce and Dick 'Batman needed a Robin'. It became a mantra once they realized the truth. In order for Batman not to go overboard, to not become what he fought against, he needed someone to light his way. Having someone to care for in the field made him cautious, more mindful of his actions. He needed to be a mentor and protector to someone else he'd fall into a mindless, violent trap. Tim saved him from becoming a monster, and more than that. He saved him from death and loneliness.

Tim brought Dick back. He made the small struggling family whole again. Shortly after he became Robin, others joined his ranks. Huntress, Spoiler, Cassandra becoming Batgirl, Azreal, the Birds of Prey, they came forward and were welcomed by Tim, who worked hard to make Batman accept each of them. Some were easier than others, but it was only after Tim joined them that he found family did not end with adoption or blood.

Looking down on him now, he could see the faint signs of him being a lonely child. Maybe that was why he attached himself to friends and others so easily. That was why losing as much as he had hurt him so much.

And yet he kept his moral compass strong. More than anything he believed in right and wrong, in justice, in Bruce. It was his belief in him that saved the world when he found a way to return to his time. Again he owed Tim his life. This small boy now cradled in his arms saved him in so many ways and now depended on him to be a good father more than any of the others.

Very much unlike the others, Tim wasn't really his until he was nearly full grown. Bruce and he should have been in the same social circles as he grew up, and yet he barely knew of the Drakes in general until the day this boy walked into his life. Sharp as a tack, already accustomed to the high life, this boy wanted to do more. And unlike the others, he was fine just being Robin. He just wanted to support him.

Happiness filled Bruce as he walked back into the room, toeing around to the other side of the bed to keep Jason and Tim separated as they slept. As Bruce settled the little boy down on the bed, left of Dick, he found it hard to leave. Tim still had a fistful of his robe in hand and a disgruntled look covered his sleeping face. Slowly Bruce placed his hands on his little one's and pried him off. Tim's face became even more upset, but soon changed as Bruce leaned over him and gently kissed his forehead. He kept a hand on the little boy's head as his face relaxed again and into a content smile.

It was very like him. It took quite some time before either of them accepted or gave affection to each other. Being raised in similar environments, it wasn't that surprising they had similar ticks. Tim's many smiles were reserved for certain people at certain times. While sleeping, it was a miracle for the boy to smile at all. Being content as he rested was as far as it would ever seem to go.

Yes, it was very like him, and it warmed Bruce's heart.

Slowly he stood up from the bed and pulled the blankets over the three boys there. Jason's mouth was open again, drooling. Dick's kept mumbling something softly, but he couldn't tell what. Tim just snuggled deeper into his part of the bed, taking no notice of the other two lying nearby. Bruce finished tucking the three in before gently closing the door for them to rest. It was going to be very noisy when they woke up. He knew it.

When he returned to the cave, Bruce gave a long sigh before taking Damian again. The babe started quieting almost immediately, clutching onto his father's robe. He looked into Leslie's eyes apologetically, but the woman gave him an understanding look. "Separation anxiety," she offered gently. "All things considered, you're probably the only constant in his life right now."

"I beg to differ," Alfred protested, and Bruce had to agree. Alfred was the real constant support for everyone there. Without him, Bruce doubted any of them would have stuck together.

Leslie gave him an apologetic shrug. "Alright, maybe not. But he is Damian's father. He doesn't want to leave his daddy."

"Quite possibly," Alfred admitted before looking back towards his charge.

Bruce rubbed his son's back slowly as the babe calmed down. He still fussed but now it wasn't giving them headaches. He recalled his and the other boy's reactions as he put them to bed. "It's something I think they all share."

"Call yourself whatever you wish," Leslie noted with a small smile. "One thing you're not is a bad father. Not a perfect one, but definitely not bad."

"Indeed. Now sir," Alfred started, "I do believe there is a bed and a crib waiting for the two of you in your chambers. Ms. Tompkins and I will gather up the necessities down here and leave them in your room, but I do insist you two go to bed immediately."

To that Bruce's mouth twitched. Tables were being turned on him once again, and he didn't want to fight Alfred that night. "Of course Alfred."

He swiftly returned to the elevator and towards his bedroom, stopping only briefly to listen in on the boys. Still sound asleep. He gave a short sigh of relief before finishing the journey to his room. There he found a pop up crib set and ready for use, and walked straight to it to relieve his arms. And like before, Damian wouldn't let go.

"What's with little kids and their iron clad grips?" Really, both little Tim and baby Damian could give Clark a run for his money with grips like theirs. After a minute of trying to get Damian off of him, the baby started to cry again. Finally he gave up. Thankfully Bruce didn't roll around in his sleep. That night the babe could sleep with him.

Turning off the light, Bruce laid down on his giant bed with his infant son laying on his chest. Damian was finally sleeping after a few minutes. It was about time. Slowly Bruce closed his eyes and let sleep take him at long last. It had been a long and trying night. Deaged children only made it ten times worse.

"WHAT THE F*CKIN' HELL?!"

Instantly Bruce's eyes opened. He recognized that voice, but it was different than normal. Pre-puberty. Jason changed a lot in the past ten years. But one thing wouldn't change: the soap Alfred was undoubtedly going to use in Jason's mouth in fifteen minutes.

The man sighed heavily before looking down to the weight on his chest. Damian was waking, and not in a good way. Briefly Bruce sniffed the air and identified the sent he was dreading as much as the inevitable shouting. He laid in bed a moment longer before forcing himself upwards, one hand keeping the babe on him.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

4

Jason would have liked to say he was the first to wake up, but he wasn't. Tim was, about an hour previous. Still in a dream like stupor, the tiny once-teen left the warm bed and walked over to the private bathroom to relieve himself. Then he blearily went straight back into bed, not even realizing what had happened earlier.

Similarly, about forty-five minutes later Dick woke up for a minute, but only to roll over towards Jason and start cuddling him. His subconscious told him the ten year old was Damian, and he was always fun to cuddle while he slept. He too promptly fell back asleep.

But Dick's grip in the end woke Jason, and he was no longer accustomed to sleeping in the manor, nor many other safe locations. As soon as he saw the ceiling his eyes widened dangerously. He looked straight to the weight he felt on him and jerked his head around to see a teenage boy next to him, almost trapping him in the bed.

All things considered, his response was very logical.

"WHAT THE F*CKIN' HELL?!" he shouted at Dick's face as he jerked violently back and out of his arms. His jolt startled Dick into a half awake daze while his voice brought a moan from Tim on the other side of him.

"Shut up Damian… waaaaiittt…." Tim murmured, confusion entering his voice.

"Who the hell are you callin' Damian!" Jason was on his knees, backing away from Dick as fast as he could. The teenager stared at the ten year old, quickly coming out of his daze. Jason's wild eyes flew everywhere, trying to something, anything, that made sense. "What the f*ck is goin' on?!"

"Jason?!" Dick gaped at him, unable to fathom why the guy was a kid.

"Who did you think I was?! The toothfairy?!" Enraged, the boy glared at the teen. He was ready to both kill and run. "Who the hell are you?!"

"What?" Dick's confused face continued being in shock. Behind him, a six year old Timmy sat up in the bed and stared at his hands in silence. "It's me! Dick!"

"Yeah right!" Sarcasm dripped from his lips as fury consumed his mind. The kid far from him turned to look at the other two as he continued to shout. "Last I knew, Dickhead was taller! You look like you should be wearin' pixie boots!"

"Hey! You wore them too!" The teen leapt to his feet, glaring down onto Jason as best he could. The kid behind him eyes grew to saucers before looking around the room, still silent. "And they got the job done!"

"Yeah, I bet that was great on the gay wagon!" Glaring, Jason jumped to his feet too. His eyes were nearly level with Dick's, turning their ferocious glares almost into a staring contest. Neither of them was paying attention as Tim rolled off the bed and darted into the bathroom.

"I'm straight and you know it!"

"Sure you are. That's why you wear leotards and show off your a—"

"OH MY GOD!" Both boys glanced towards the bathroom where Timmy's childlike voice swore in surprise. Both stared in shock when they finally noted he was a diminutive six year old. Tim was gaping at his reflection in the floor length mirror hanging on the wall touching it on occasion. "We've been deaged!"

"What the hell?!" Jason cursed automatically in confusion. Dick ignored him, leaping off the bed and dashing to the bathroom to see what he was talking about.

"Deaged?" Once in the bathroom, he stopped and gaped at Timmy. The once teenager was now back to the beginning of school, staring at his own reflection. "Tim?!"

The six year old nervously turned toward the teen, shock still playing on his face. "Yeah… It's me Dick. And that's you."

He pointed to Dick's reflection, making him turn to see himself at long last. Instantly he gasped, gaping at his own appearance. He was himself, at thirteen or fourteen, right before his major growth-spurt. He locked eyes with himself, shock staying on his face. "Damn it. Jason! Get in here! You have to see this!"

"The last thing I want to see is your f*ckin' face Dicky!" came the reply. "Where the hell am I?! Why am I here?!"

"I think he's missing the big picture here," Tim noted, trying to be calm.

"Always does," Dick observed, not taking his eyes off himself.

"We're in the manor," Tim offered, trying to coax Jason to join them in front of the mirror. "One of the guest rooms reserved for small families."

"Yeah, Wally and Roy used it when they visited with their families," the elder added to make things clear. He pulled back a sleeve, checking if the scars he knew were still there. As far as he could see, there was no change in his unconventional body art.

"As for why," Tim shrugged, sounding like the reason was obvious, "I'm betting Bruce found us all like this and took us here. You have to admit, the manor is pretty safe and out of the way. No one will know what's going on here. You can only hide so much at—"

"Where's Damian?!" Dick shouted in realization.

"Um…"

Quickly Dick the teen dashed out of the bathroom and around the rest of the place, searching for the fifth Robin. Fear had started taking control of him as he looked. Damian was his responsibility until their last patrol was done, and last thing he remembered they weren't done yet.

Jason rolled his eyes at the guy before marching towards the door. "Stupid Dick. Where do you think he is? If we've all been 'deaged', whatever the f*ck that is, then he's either dead or with that ass of a dad of his."

"Watch your mouth!" Dick snapped back at him as he tossed some pillows in the air.

"Peh, like ya give a damn what I f*ckin' say? That demon is a hell of a lot worse than I am."

"Ummm… as much as I hate agreeing with Jason," Tim observed as he slowly left the bathroom, "he's probably right. Depending on how far back we've all gone physically, he's either a dead embryo or a baby in constant need of care. I'm pretty sure Bruce wouldn't leave him alone or with the three of us if that's the case."

"Score one for the replacement!" Jason jibed, a cocky smirk on his face. "Guess next time we meet I won't be shootin' ya."

"Yeah and I'm so looking forward to that," Tim murmured as he rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to deal with this crazy first thing in the morning. Personally he was glad the guy was headed out the door.

"Jason!" Dick on the other hand wasn't. A new wave of panic settled on his face. "We need to stay here!"

"No way in hell am I stayin' under the same roof as you guys!" He grabbed the knob and yanked the door open to leave, only to come face to face with a giant. Jason paled a moment, completely still, before throwing the door shut in the man's face. "Found your demon!" he shouted to the others before dashing to the far corner of the room.

"Nice try young man."

At this voice, both Tim and Dick tensed and relaxed. They were relieved to hear the person they trusted most, but knew they were in for a whole world of trouble. 'Young man' was usually the precursor to much more unpleasant phrases. Thankfully, they were likely to be thrown at Jason, having slammed the door in Bruce's face.

The dark knight in question easily opened the door and stepped in, holding a gray and black bundle in one arm and closely followed in by Alfred. Bruce looked over all three of them, his face still but his arms moving slightly to keep his grip on his package. The butler was eyeing them all for a moment, a camera in one hand and a bar of soap in the other. All three boys took in the old man within moments, then two of them turned on the third.

"Told you to watch the language," Dick teased, a smirk on his face. Jason's eyes became wide again as they latched onto that bar of soap, his mouth firmly shut.

"Bruce, what's going on? What happened?" Tim quickly tried to cross the room but tripped over the hem of his pants, falling flat out on his stomach. Both Bruce and Dick came forward to help him up while Jason pointed and laughed at his misfortune. Alfred used that opportunity to shove the bar into his mouth. "Ow."

"Easy there Timmy," Dick started, pulling his brother to his feet. Bruce knelt before him to make certain he was alright. Both boys just turned towards him expectantly. "Okay Bruce, what's going on? Is that Damian?"

Slowly Bruce nodded and showed them the baby in his arms. Little Damian was wide awake and thankfully not fussy, but instantly started squirming when he spotted Dick. A hand even let go of Bruce to reach for him. The three stared at the babe for a moment in surprise before the teen reached for him and started holding their youngest brother.

"Unbelievable," Bruce murmured as he stared at the two. "He wouldn't let anyone but me hold him last night, and I couldn't get him to calm down for the longest time."

Dick shrugged. "I'm just good with kids."

"Or he's mentally still the same too," Tim observed. Bruce and Dick started at him for a moment as he tested this theory. "Damian, this is just to know if I'm right, not to humiliate you or anything. If anything, it'll make things easier on all of us until we've got this sorted out. Nod twice if you know exactly what's going on right now."

For a long moment the baby gave Tim a dark infant glare. Even if he was a baby and Tim was six-ish, Damian did not want to get along with him. But he nodded, twice. Everyone but Tim jolted their heads back in surprise at this discovery, staring at the babe. Tim merely sighed heavily.

"Figured as much."

"How did you—"

"Since I remember a lot of adult things, and Dick and Jason were comparing their histories and costumes, I figured whatever turned us into kids, it had no control over our minds. So here we have four people with so many years or memories that shouldn't count or be there." He stated this as calmly as he could, making him sound like his usual self for a moment.

"Then how come he hasn't said a word?" Bruce asked, curious if Tim had an answer for that as well. For all he knew, the boy's behavior was attributed to his physical age.

Timmy shrugged. "I'm guessing learning to talk has less to do with brain functions than motor functions right now. I don't know that much about babies. Bruce, what happened? Why are we kids?"

"Yeah Bruce," Dick interjected, shifting Damian's weight in hopes to make them both more comfortable. Pleading bewilderment contorted his face. "What happened?"

Bruce gave a long heavy sigh before answering. He gave Jason a conflicted glance before looking back to the other three. "I'm not entirely sure."

"What?!" All three boys said in unison, Jason having finally escaped Alfred's cleaning of his mouth. "What do you mean you—"

"I haven't really had time to go through everything yet," their father admitted. He rose to his feet then inclined his head to the emerald velvet couch in front of the TV there. "It's best you get comfortable before I tell you what I do know. Over there."

The boys in front of him hesitated for a moment before nodding and going over without any protests. Dick sat down gently on one end of the couch, turning Damian around to sit on his knees facing the TV and where Bruce would be momentarily. Tim sat closely next to him, cocking his head to silently ask for an explanation. It took a firm look from both Alfred and Bruce to get Jason to join them. He lounged in the opposite corner of the other three, taking a whole cushion for himself in rebellion. Alfred stood behind the couch as if to keep them there while Bruce settled himself in front of them all.

Both hands remained behind his back as he carefully chose his next set of words. Each of the boys knew he struggled to explain things involving himself so they waited a minute in silence for him to talk. A minute though was all Jason would give him. "Well?!"

"You've all been deaged," Bruce started.

"Kinda figured that," the ten year old growled, glaring at his former mentor.

" _How_ did it happen Bruce?" Dick insisted. "I don't remember being hit by some whacked out chemicals."

"Haven't seen Mxyzptik lately either," Tim noted.

"Whoda whata?" Jason asked in confusion, looking over to Tim.

"A fifth dimensional prankster Superman usually deals with who—"

"Has nothing to do with this," Bruce finished. He recalled very easily the massive age swap all those years ago, and it gave him a great deal of sympathy for his boys, having finally worn the Robin costume during that event. Their gazes returned to him within a second. He took a deep breath before continuing. "It was Felix Faust."

"The warlock?" Dick asked to clarify. Alarm grew on Tim's face as Bruce nodded.

Jason merely looked skeptical. "What? Magic? You seriously think magic did this to us?"

"It doesn't matter if you think its magic or an unspecified science," Bruce stated firmly. "What matters is the result. Zatanna was having trouble locking down Faust's operations here in Gotham and requested my assistance in taking him down. Apparently I stepped on one too many of his toes," this one smothered snickers from each of the boys, "and he decided to curse me."

"Curse you? Seriously?" Jason rolled his eyes, keeping his voice at an acceptable level to avoid Alfred's wrath. "Has this guy ever really met you? If he really wanted to torture you, he should have trapped you butt naked in the same room as the Joker."

"Jason!" Dick snapped at him as both he and Tim glared daggers into his skin. The boy shrugged it off casually.

Bruce though had to smirk. "True, that would have worked as well."

"See, told ya. So why are we all like this?" the rebel demanded casually, a smug look on his face. "This warlock an idiot or somethin'?"

"No," the man admitted softly. "He's one of the strongest magic users of his time."

"Then why the he—ck," he edited quickly at a soft cough from Alfred, "am I a f—reakin' kid!"

"Because he wanted to make me suffer," Bruce explained. Jason continued to look at him in enraged confusion while a light donned on Tim and Dick's faces. It was near impossible to read Damian's baby face. Calmly the man continued. "If any of you died…"

He paused for a moment, gripping his hands tightly behind his back to help him conceal his emotions. His kinder birds recognized his habit and started to worry about him. Jason's confusion lost its anger, making him lean forward as if begging the man to continue. So he did. "I doubt I'd be able to continue on, as Batman… or as Bruce Wayne."

For a long moment, there was silence in the room. Jason just gaped at Bruce, completely taken back while the other two looked down, knowing it was true. Baby Damian just cocked his head to the side, obviously not understanding what he meant this time. Bruce too looked to the floor, letting the thought sink in.

"Wait… what?" Jason's breathless question caused the man to look back to him alone. Disbelief, and maybe a small amount of hope, flooded his face. "What do you mean by that? You're Batman. There's no way you would—"

"You have no idea what Bruce did after you died Jason," Dick interjected. Jason looked at him, bewilderment never leaving his face. The teen continued to stare at the ground, remembering that time sadly. Tim kept his gaze on the ground as well. It was because of Batman's actions after Jason died that started his road to being Robin after all.

"Sure I do!" he snapped, his anger returning. "He up and replaced me with the half-pint there!"

"That was after he nearly got himself killed fighting crime solo for a year. I started this job to keep him alive."

Jason snapped out of his temper, gaping at Tim in disbelief. "Bull."

"He's telling the truth Jay," Dick piped in. "Things didn't go well for us back then, and they only seemed to get worse between us. He tried to—"

"Enough," Bruce started, trying to move them along. As much as they tried explaining events to Jason in the past, now wasn't the time to tell him what he nearly did to Joker back then. "What matters is, Faust must have known this and decided to reverse your lives, probably to embryos. Zatanna tried to stop it, but seemed to only prevent further deaging. I don't know the details about it as of yet because my first priority was getting each of you to safety. I'll be getting answers from her in an hour, after you're all situated better."

"Why didn't you get answers last night?" Jason demanded, though not as angrily as before. "Or at least wake us up. You sure as… anything didn't do that before."

"Good question," Tim murmured lowly as Dick's face repeated it.

"I tried waking you," Bruce explained, running a hand through his hair, "but none of you would. A side effect of the spell I presume. And Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold him last night, and he wouldn't stop crying. Could you see me taking a crying infant to the watch tower?"

Everyone looked at the baby in the room, some with more annoyance than others. They'd have more answers if he wasn't there. The babe in question seemed to be avoiding everyone's gazes, patiently waiting for his father to continue.

And he did, sighing for a moment. "There are still questions I have to ask the three of you though. Too many mysteries. Such as, why were you all in the same room of that warehouse at the East Side Pier."

"Same room?" Jason asked, obviously lost.

"East Side Pier?" Tim cocked his head in confusion.

"That's where I found you," Bruce explained. "All four of you were in a warehouse, upper story. Shattered the window getting in, and you three didn't move a muscle."

"Well I know why we were there," Dick started, racking his brain for answers, "but I don't remember going into a warehouse. Damian and I were tracking down a drug operation over there. They had crates stuffed with cocaine straight from Mexico. They even had a few with Venom inside. Last I remember, we were setting up an assault on the dealers, then…"

His voice drifted off as he tried to remember what happened next. "We weren't planning on going into a warehouse, that's all I know for certain. Next thing I know, we're all here, like this."

"Peh, some help you are." Jason rolled his eyes, putting up a pretense of not being concerned best he could. "That shipment you were trackin', I was trying to get drowned in the sea. New guy. Doesn't listen to my rules. I was on the east end, shining my best friends last I knew. Takin' a breather before the fun began. Then I'm here. Damn if I know what happened."

"Ahem." The ten year old looked up to Alfred and his displeased face, blood rushing away from his.

"Is that one really so bad?"

"One warning."

Jason tightened his lips together, almost as if to bite his tongue. So long as he was a kid there, he'd really have to watch his mouth around the old man.

Bruce and Dick turned their gazes to the third Robin who was looking a little away as he thought hard about his last memories. "Tim?"

"I'm thinking," he answered quickly. They gave him a minute more before he sighed a little. "Not entirely sure, but last I really remember is working on a history paper, then realizing how late it was. I wanted to take a breather, so I opened my window and popped outside. I can kind of remember the urge to run on rooftops and putting my uniform on, but that's about it. Sorry Bruce. I have no idea why I was on the east side at all."

The man nodded. "Possibly a side effect from the spell."

"Or part of it," Dick amended.

"Indeed." He looked away for a moment in thought. They knew this was going to be part of the list of questions he'd ask Zatanna later. He was going to have a long talk with her.

Finally the man sighed. "Alright. Now we know where we stand. Until everyone's back to normal, we're all staying here."

"Yeah right," Jason interjected, ignoring the agreeing nods of the others. They all seemed to give him cold looks in response.

"Do you really think you can survive on the streets alone in your current condition?" Bruce stated flatly. "For all we know, this may be permanent. Civil services will haul you to juvie if they find you, or worse. At least here you have a chance to be an adult again Jason."

The ten year old squirmed under his gaze, not really wanting to think about it. But it was the truth. All of them had a better chance of returning to normal if they just stayed in the manor with Bruce and Alfred. Out of the public's eye, far of trouble, and enjoying the luxuries of being a billionaire's son. The boy growled to himself, but definitely gave in to his foster father at long last. He couldn't argue with his logic.

"Wait," Tim started, an idea coming to him. "All of us? Including you?"

Dick jerked his head around at the concept, joined in by Jason's widening eyes. Slowly Bruce nodded. "I'll make some excuse about all of us disappearing for an undisclosed amount of time if we need to, maybe an island trip or skiing adventure depending on how long this will last. Something to keep the vultures away. Batman's activities will be kept to a minimal until we know what we're dealing with—"

"Or unless Joker or Two-Face rear their heads again," Dick insisted. Robin number two's face tightened slightly at the mention of those two foes but said nothing. Bruce merely nodded, tensing a bit as well.

"Baring them, we have to leave Gotham in the girls' hands. You're my first responsibility, and I intend to do right by you, each of you. This may only last a few hours or a few days, but until you're at your proper ages, you're under my care."

Everyone stared openly at Bruce, each of their reactions different. Jason openly gaped at him, his jaw ajar in disbelief. For once he didn't seem defensive or angry, just surprised as he let this sink in. Tim's eyes filled with both joy and concern. Bruce worrying more about them than Gotham was a bit unusual. Dick couldn't hide his smile very well. Being the first thing Bruce was thinking of was a childhood wish of his, one he never realized was true. Damian was still for a moment longer, before he started to squirm a bit, his hands raising towards his father. Alfred merely gave his usual smile, but didn't hide his unspoken pride in his charge's decision.

"You're wacked," Jason murmured, but there was no bite to it. "You're giving up Batman to take care of us?"

"I wouldn't say giving it up," Bruce mused. "My mission is far from over."

"You're still wacked."

"Be it as it may," Alfred interjected, inclining his head between Bruce and the still reaching Damian, "I do believe the young masters are in need of breakfast and a change of apparel. Come. Your clothes are in your rooms. I expect everyone in the kitchen in fifteen minutes, unless you wish to only eat soap Master Jason."

Jason groaned and rolled his eyes as he got off the couch ignoring the snickers from both Dick and Tim. Bruce picked up Damian as the other two followed Alfred out the door to their old rooms. The old man was really the king of the manor after all, no one argued with him.

* * *

5

Dick picked at his old clothes as he came back onto the hallway, not liking the prep look he was forced into once again. One of the first things he did when he left Wayne manor the first time was ditch the look Alfred had him wear. He always preferred more casual clothing after all. Why Alfred kept his clothes from way back then he'd never know.

He looked over to Tim and knew he hadn't faired much better. Course he grew up going back and forth between t-shirts and jeans and the upper class prep look, depending on his parents' situation back then. He was pretty much fine wearing anything. Just that these clothes were a bit big on him, and he kept tripping into things.

"Ow." Tim repeated for the third time since waking up. He rubbed his head, having plowed into a table in the hallway. "I miss being big."

"You miss a lot of things." Calmly Dick knelt down and started rolling up the kid's pant legs. Tim gave him an annoyed glare before the teen started adjusting the rest of his clothes to fit him. "See? Wow, at least Alfred left you a belt. Everything's just two sizes too big."

"And where did you get those?" Tim jibed back, picking at the sweater-vest Dick was wearing. "They look old."

"About ten years old," he admitted with a sigh as he adjusted Tim's collar. "Alfred didn't donate them when I out grew them."

Timmy couldn't help but to smirk. "You wore these on a normal day?"

"Hence why I left," he smirked. Confusion started to grow on the kid's face.

"But I thought—"

"Just joking." Dick ran a hand through Tim's hair affectionately, a smile on his face. "But let's just say, when I first ran over to the Titans and lived just with them, I got myself a completely new look. Not just as Nightwing either."

"Ah yes," Tim reminisced, "the mullet."

An evil grin grew on the first Robin's face. "Nah, that was to tick Bruce off. Ready for breakfast?"

The kid looked behind him towards one very infrequently used door. "Shouldn't we wait for Jason? You know, so he doesn't run off?"

Dick waved it off. "Nah, he's a big boy. He'll find his own way to the food. Besides, Bruce'll drag him down if he has to."

With that, the two made their way to the kitchen, briefly stopping at one of the banisters for a moment to slide down them, grinning. Tim had trouble leaping off at the last second, but Dick caught him, preventing another bump. Both giggled at the bottom. "Alfred would be so ticked…"

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him." Dick grinned as he guided Tim to the kitchen. "I used to do that every other morning. There was one Christmas Bruce raced me down the stairs and I won because did that. The only rule for the race was no acrobatics."

"Didn't want you to leap onto the couches huh?" Tim laughed.

"More like sparing them another chandelier," he admitted. The kid's laughter only grew, making Dick smile warmly at him. It was good to hear Tim laughing like that again. After everything that had happened to him, it was rare to hear it. He missed those days when he laughed easily. How long ago was it?

Smells of warm delicious food broke him away from that train of thought as they entered the kitchen and saw the makings of the meal waiting them. Though the manor had a large table in the dining room, the kitchen was where they mostly ate. The dining hall just reminded everyone of the mask Bruce wore to the public and the loneliness they all faced too often. Maybe they'd enjoy the room if the whole bat-clan came to dinner one night. Somehow though, everyone doubted that'd ever happen.

As it was, Dick and Tim eagerly entered the kitchen and took their usual places at the counter. An old highchair was nearby along with two other stools. Alfred was finishing up the eggs before putting some plates together for serving. The boys grinned at each other, having missed these breakfasts with Alfred when they both moved out. If it were just them cooking, it'd be something simple and quick. And heaven forbid Bruce trying to make breakfast.

Before they knew it, two plates of specially prepared eggs, pancakes and melon balls sat before them. Tim's had broccoli and cheese in his eggs with blueberries in the pancakes while Dick's eggs were poached and his pancakes lathered in strawberries and whipped cream. Another stack of pancakes waited for Jason, each one smothered in butter with thick maple syrup waiting to be poured beside it, a few sausages lying next to them. Glasses of milk and orange juice presented themselves next to each plate as Alfred went back to finishing up Bruce's breakfast. He would have beagles, eggs, and raisin bran along with his coffee. A fresh bottle of milk waited on the high chair.

"I would tell the two of you to wait," Alfred started, "but I know you must be hungry."

"Famished," Tim insisted as he picked up his utensils. Dick had already downed half his milk. "No coffee until we're big again huh?"

"Indeed sir. Take time to chew your food," the butler reminded them before finishing preparing Bruce's plate. Dick tried not to laugh and choke on his food, but only Tim succeeded. The six year old slapped the teen's back a few times to help him breathe again before he managed to drain the last of his glass, easing the food down his throat. Alfred merely sighed. "I did warn you Master Richard."

"Thanks Alfie," he managed between chuckles and coughs. Above them they heard shouting and heavy footfalls, telling them all what had happened. Dick shook his head with a smirk, getting back to busying himself with his meal. Tim rolled his eyes and gave his brother a knowing look while Alfred merely sighed in disappointment. "Window or polls?"

"I'm guessing roof," the kid offered before taking another slice of blueberry goodness.

Dick shook his head. "He'd want his stuff back first. Hadn't made it to the study yet so I'm thinking polls."

"What about the one in the entertainment room?" Tim offered, waving another piece of pancake around on his fork.

"That one was put in after you joined up," he explained. The service elevator was in the kitchen and only the three of them were there. The only other entrances they knew of were outside or underground through the caves. They were reserved for the cars. The batcave was only as secure if they kept the entrances to a minimum.

Before they could continue this debate, Bruce marched in, carrying Jason under one arm while balancing Damian in the other. Exasperation nearly controlled his features as the ten year old flailed in the man's grasp and the babe shrieked at him. If Dick had a camera right then he'd take a snapshot for future blackmail. It was quite a sight to see.

"Let me go!" Jason shouted fiercely. He kept kicking and punching at Bruce's torso in protest, but the man held him in such a way he couldn't do much damage or escape. Alfred carefully relieved the man of his infant so he could deal with the boy alone at last. The other two watched as they ate, very amused at the sight.

"Not until you stop fighting me!" Bruce barked back. Now with his other hand free, he grabbed the boy's wrists together and tried to calm him down.

The boy scowled up at him, still squirming in his grasp. "Control freak!" This won a smirk from nearly everyone else in the room. There was no denying this.

His foster father frowned, his face darkening slowly. He looked to the others. "Excuse us for a moment."

Quickly he turned Jason's body into a princess styled hold before marching back into the hallway for privacy. Dick and Tim inwardly groaned. Their morning entertainment was gone. Alfred suppressed a smile as he turned towards the high chair and realized Damian wasn't yet old enough to sit in one. Resigned with the fussing babe, he grabbed the prepared bottle and started feeding him. The other two strained their ears to hear Bruce lecture the rogue.

Judging by the heavy thump, he had set the squirming boy on the ground without hurting him.

* * *

 **And that's where I stopped.**

Wow there's a lot more than I thought there'd be...

I think i'll sum this one up in the next post, where ideas only are there. Tata!


	8. Ideas that never were!

**_Ideas that never were!_**

yeah, here we have the ideas that never got started. Sorry. So some summaries and some ideas. First off though, the idea of the last one that ran too long.

 _Children Again_ : So there I had everyone deaged ten years. and for the most part it's determinant. Bruce takes a break from being Batman in order to keep all four of them alive and not killing each other off. He has a lot of fun with Baby dami, and has a hard time with Jason being a jerk to people, but eventually they all mellow out. After a month, when Zatanna finds a way to make them big again, Dick comes up with an idea that changes everything: why not keep the younger three at the age they are now and give them a second chance? Dick can't go back to being a kid with Bruce so he has to become an adult again, but Jason's life sucked big time, especially after dying once. Tim was lonely as a kid so this time aroudn he could have a family. and then there's damian's mother's side. he did not have a childhood. Bruce at first is against it, but when Jason and tim hear it, they say yes. Dami is then asked adn he nods yes too. So Dick gets to become big again, adn the other three get their memories wiped/suppressed so they get a new chance at life. This leads into it's sequel, Not Replacements. There are two pictures for this one on my DA page.

 _Not Replacements_ : Basically three brothers (Jason, Tim, and Damian Peters) get orphaned, put in the same orphanage with some carefully selected people there, and start a new life. They first befriend Dick Grayson, who then gets Bruce Wayne to adopt them. A lot happens and eventually, both Jason and Tim start remembering who they once were. In time they see a video of themselves reassuring them this was their choice and that they wanted a childhood. They instead each decide to be robin again. That's all I had planned. Jason got frustrated at one point because he thought he was a replacement for Jason Todd who died and Tim was a replacement for Tim Drake, who "died of an illness overseas". Can't remember what excuse Damian was given for not being around anymore. Custody battle? Who knows

 _Worst Days Ever!_ \- Young Justice fic: Read a horrid fic on Dick getting taken from Bruce when he was 15, and it just didn't settle right with me. So I made a nefarious plot behind it, made Dick 10/11, and gave it a happy ending. Also a way Hal was able to meet Robin one on one. Before Robin meets Kid Flash.

This meshed with my 16.23 universe, where he's like 10 years old, Robin, and people accuse Bruce of abusing him. Course Bruce fights it with all his might, but the courts nearly succeed in taking him away. It turns into an elaborate plot by Tony Zucco to destroy Dick, and ends with Bruce getting undisputed custody of Dick Grayson. Can't remember all the details I had for this one anymore. I was really just frustrated with bad writing at that point. There is a picture for this on my DA page.

 _Robin: Kid and Napped_ \- Teen Titans Fic: haven't seen a teen titans deaged robin yet. Thought it'd be fun. culprit of course would be slade.

So here I had Robin get buried in a weird pink dust that turned him unconscious. The titans take him back to the tower and he shrinks into being a ten year old (who happens to be traumatized by the above story's events). Freaked out and in a place he doesn't recognize (mentally went back to his age this time around), he escapes the tower, takes out an emergency communicator, and calls Batman for help. Bats figures everything out over the comline, almost gets him back into the tower until he gets there, then Slade appears, kidnapping robin. bats hears everything and drops what he's doing in Gotham to save his son. Slade locks scared Robin in a dark room and makes 'bad sounds' all around him to scare him further. Bats makes it to Jump, shouts at the Titans, then makes a plan to save Robin. The isotope used to deage him is easy to trace so they find him being taken to the airport. Bats, as Maches Malone, swaps bags with Slade (Robin's cramped in a carry-on bag[idea from TV, don't' try at home]), and gets his little birdy into a bathroom. When Slade realizes the switch, Bruce has another disguise on, and has Robin in girl clothes to hide his ID. they walk out of the airport while the Titans 'search' the place for Robin and Slade. Slade runs off cursing and promising that he will get Robin back. At the tower, Bats cleans Robin off, does an analysis, and realizes that until Robin stops being traumatized, turning him back into an adult is a bad idea. Something about lingering mental states I think... Anyway, Bats and Rob hang around the Tower while the Titans do everything they can to get Robin out of his shell and back to normal. Lots of fluff scenes. Eventually Slade attacks and Robin decides to be brave and fight him too. That ends his trauma, and Bats gets him back to his real age. Grown up Robin is embarrassed by his childish behavior before, argues with Bats, and they part ways again. BOth though admit that they missed the time they had back then. Such fun days.

 _NG League Life_ \- Justice League AU: read one about the league being reincarnated. I read a manga series called _NG Life_ where this one guy remembered his past life and the lives of a few of his friends, and a few of them had swapped genders! So I thought, what if the league plus a few others were reincarnated, but some of them were gender swapped. The majority of them don't remember of course, but the one who does is having major mental issues. =D

Yeah, the plot isn't much of a plot so much as a shoujo manga. No real fighting or crisis, just a lot of psychological traumas. Bats and Hal are girls, while a lot of others aren't swapped. No one remembers their old live except Bats, and everyone, including her, thinks she's nuts. There's a lot more to it, but like I said, it's more like a Shoujo manga than a typical batfam story. Dick's also gender swapped. You have the seven main leaguers, seven villains, and seven supports for the leaguers living new lives. That's the big story. Oh, and they're in high school. X3

* * *

Well, I think that's all of them! Thanks for bearing with me. Until I see you next time on Daddy, Not Bats. PM me if you want to take any of these and get more details on them. Laters.


	9. Story Adoption Status

_**Story Adoption Status:**_

Here is the status of the stories offered. There are quite a few still open and one or two in debate. The status is to tell you what is closed and what has no offers on the table yet. Keep talking to me and keep improving. I will pick people when I know who is right for it. How many offers I get for the story is also a major factor.

* * *

 _Earth 2 Batclan:_ CLOSED

Offers: 1

Adoptee: AlyssPotter

* * *

 **Wayne Family Orphanage:** CLOSED

Offers: 3

Adoptee: CaraLee934

* * *

 _Outsiders:_ OPEN

Offers: None

* * *

 **Further Down the Line:** OPEN

Offers: None

* * *

 _Avenging Bats:_ CLOSED

Offers: 3

Adoptee: CaraLee934

* * *

 **Children Again/Not Replacements:** OPEN

Offers: 3

Adoptee: in debate

* * *

 _Worst Days Ever!:_ OPEN

Offers: None

* * *

 **Robin: Kid and Napped:** CLOSED

Offers: 1

Adoptee: Thaliag.2

* * *

 _NG League Life:_ OPEN

Offers: None


	10. UNRELATED THEFT REPORT

Totally unrelated but I wanted you to know, the person calling themself **Wezza** on **AO3** , IS NOT ME! This person stole both 'Without Me' and 'Where's Robin?', putting them under different titles but same summary and is claiming they are me. I'm not on the AO3 site. Please help me in reporting the thief. Thank you.

And Wezza, I have 6 brothers, 5 sisters, and a really bad temper. Thou shalt not steal!

EDIT: Thank you all for your support. AO3 just contacted me and now I need everyone calm people down. They are now flooded with reports. I guess I over did it. It's the first time anyone's done this to me so I probably overreacted. It was past my bedtime and I usually run on 5 hours of sleep so that didn't help. Thank you all again! And I'll try to update things that aren't completed in the near future. I'll delete this chapter from everything after I move apartments. Again. BI


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